


in requiem aeternam

by hamleting



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Art Teacher Ten, Grim Reaper WinWin, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Psychological Horror, Set in Prague, Surrealism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamleting/pseuds/hamleting
Summary: Sicheng had never questioned the nature of his unbeating heart, not even after an eternity of harvesting souls under the unchanging sky. Not until one of those souls made him wonder. A soul that, maybe, was worth saving.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43
Collections: NCT Spookfest 2020, Winwin's Witching Hour





	in requiem aeternam

**Author's Note:**

> posted for #WinwinsWitchingHourDay4  
> this work was inspired by [ten and winwin's 'lovely' dance performance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ovHSQwp1n0&ab_channel=WayV), go watch it if you haven't yet  
> here's a [moodboard](https://www.pinterest.com.au/hamleting/in-requiem-aeternam/) for the story
> 
> the following trigger warnings may contain spoilers, but if you're a sensitive person i advise you to read them:
> 
> tw// unhealed trauma, anxiety, depressive thoughts, descriptions of asphyxiation, animal death (bird), minor character death (suicide/overdose), themes related to grief

The church was desolated, the faintests of lights coming from the half-consumed candles that glinted silently over the altar. Sicheng glided between the rows of benches like a quiet shadow, a cold wind that goes unnoticed save for a passing shiver. He took his time, leaving the agonizing figure on the front row unattended as he made a detour towards the windows instead.

He contemplated the stories of sacrifice and forgiveness shown on the vitrals, shifting with life as the candle flames danced beside them. His uninterested gaze fell upon the figure with the perfect sun behind its head, its eyes piercing him with intensity, searching for a soul that wasn’t there. For a moment, Sicheng wondered if the same image would stare back at him if he were to return in another two hundred years, or if a new one would replace it. He wondered if what made the figures on the glasses dance with life was the light that human’s hearts projected on them, or if it was the other way around.

A distant grunt made him divert his attention to another figure, the one resting on the first-row bench. Sicheng gave the vitrals one last contemplative glance before going towards it.

With soundless steps, Sicheng made his way to the young man and looked down at his curled up body. His skin was stained with sickness, his body thin to the bone, his clothes ragged and in the same state of decay as him. At first he didn’t notice the other man towering over him, still as a statue on a cold winter night. Then, with an erratic movement of the head his watery eyes found Sicheng, and the man inhaled sharply.

“Good Lord”, he breathed in a raspy voice. “You are here to take me, aren’t you?”

Sicheng held his gaze, unflinching. His thin lips remained shut, unable to pronounce the words of comfort the man in front of him so desperately craved. The man raised a weak hand towards his mouth as he coughed violently. 

“Is there a Heaven?”, the man asked. His eyes reflected the lights of the candles, a glint of hope within the black pools that were already beginning to close. Sicheng knew that look very well.

“You will be there soon.” His voice was merely a whisper, reaching towards the man like a gelid breeze. With that, the man finally closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Sicheng stood by his side as the candles began to die out, the growing shadows of the church falling on the man like crows demanding their share. A few moments later, the man stiffened completely.

A thin thread of white smoke, invisible for the human eye, began to emane from the man’s chest. With a delicate movement, Sicheng extended his hand towards it, welcoming it into his palm as it condensed into a spherical form. He watched as the familiar pale light from the sphere swirled on his hand, casting aquatic shadows on the lifeless body that remained on the bench and from which it was still draining out the last of the smoke. Then, when all of it was contained inside the sphere, Sicheng lowered his head and blew towards it softly. The sphere glinted for just a moment before dissolving into the night, taking away its light and leaving the church for the shadows to take.

The candles had burnt out long ago, and now the only light that remained was the one of the moon, bathing the altar steps with her pale kiss. Sicheng spared no more glances to the rigid body beside him as he turned to leave. His eyes, nonetheless, found the figures on the vitrals, now unmoving behind the veil of darkness.

Sicheng hummed quietly. Even if the words he bestowed the dying man with were empty due to Sicheng’s ignorance, they’d had the power of imbuing hope in him. But his own cold and unbeating heart didn’t have room for hopeful sentiment, and maybe the holy images knew that. The church, with only him in it, felt empty.

Was an empty church still a church?

“...sixty-three people in one day, not a single delay in the past _month_ , how about that?”

Sicheng merely nodded at Yangyang’s question, his gaze lost in the endless desert in front of him that reached in grey waves of stone towards the horizon. His leg hung lazily from the cliff’s edge, thousands of meters above the pointed rocks that promised a bloody ending to any creature that was foolish enough to fall.

Yangyang grabbed a tiny pebble and threw it in his direction, “Are you even listening to me?”

Sicheng turned towards his friend, who sat cross-legged over a dry tree trunk. “Not a single delay, sixty-three people”, he replied tiredly. “Were you looking for some approbation?”

“It wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Yangyang huffed and stood on the trunk, its rotten wood creaking and threatening to give in, “Why are you so quiet lately?”

“I’m always quiet.”

Yangyang clicked his tongue, and with tumbling steps began walking over the rocks that were scattered over the grey land. Sicheng turned his sight back to the cliff. The unchanging grey sky hovered above them with its heavy clouds, anticipating a rain that would never come. Not a single breeze greeted his young skin, not even the pass of time could make it decay. 

“What is the first memory you have?” Sicheng asked.

“Huh?”

Sicheng turned to face his friend again. He was still jumping from rock to rock, his arms spread wide open to maintain balance. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t. Everytime I try to remember my memories get mixed up, and I can’t tell what came before and what after.”

Yangyang furrowed his eyebrows, his head bowed towards the ground as he took a careful step over another dry wood. He shrugged, “So?”

“Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“No. It must be that you’re very old.”

Sicheng pursed his lips and looked towards the ground, unsatisfied with his friend’s answer. He pulled from the dry grass that made its way between the cracks, and it crumbled under his fingers. “What even is this place?” Yangyang didn’t respond, too focused on the path of rocks in front of him. Sicheng sighed in exasperation, “Come on, stop fooling around and listen to me.”

“Why? You weren’t listening to _me_ when I was telling you about my achievements.”

Yangyang turned his back to him and started pacing the other way, along a fallen tree. Sicheng rose from his spot and in just a few strides he was in front of him, standing on the tree as well and blocking his way.

“Hey!”, Yangyang complained.

“Think about it. Don’t you think it’s strange that we look exactly like them?”

“Like who?”

“Humans. Why is that? Why do we live to collect their dead?”

Yangyang stared at him for a moment, a discontent scowl on his face. Then, he turned to the side and jumped from the tree, making a cloud of dirt rise from his feet as he touched the ground, “Stop asking all those things, it’s annoying.”

Sicheng watched, defeated, as Yangyang rubbed the dirt from his dark clothes and made his way back to his cave. He knew it was no use trying to shake some sense into him, get him to understand the deep-rooted uncertainty that was beginning to tear him apart from the inside.

He turned once more to the bleak and extensive landscape before him. His heart remained cold and unbeating in his chest, reflecting the unchanging nature of the sky the same way it always had. The same way it always would. What use was it, living an undead life that was unaccepting of change? If yesterday was today, and today was yesterday, did that mean he had already lived the years that laid ahead of him?

With careful steps, he jumped from the tree and walked towards the cliff. His feet grumbled against the gravel as he stopped by the edge, looking down at the pointed rocks below. A single pebble rolled towards the void in an infinite fall, getting lost with the other ones that awaited. He stayed like that for a while, until the world blended in an incomprehensible blur and his thoughts faded into nothingness. 

Sicheng knew what was expected of him. Even if he couldn’t remember the reason behind his acts, he had his own nature to guide him. He had been on the path of the Dead long enough. He’d trusted that path for long enough. But as he walked through the winter streets in his way to meet his next soul to harvest, his mind kept brewing questions. How long was he supposed to be on that path? Would it always be this invariable? Was it worth it to wonder about a different one?

Sicheng's body was incapable of experiencing temperature, but he still wrapped his arms around him as he reached the destination for the day's final task. The building in front of him was stained with humidity and overall mediocre, the antique architecture revealing its age. His finger wrapped in a black leather glove found the bell for the apartment where the fated one lived, still ignorant to their fatal destiny.

As he waited, he contemplated the image the glass on the heavy wooden doors gave back to him. It wasn't often that Sicheng witnessed his own appearance, and most of the time it proved to be a jarring experience. The young man in front of him was gaunt, almost pale, the darkness in his eyes only heightened by the lack of soul they hosted. Every inch of his body safe his face was concealed by black, elegant clothing, ordinary enough to blend into the human crowd. No recognizable emotion could be detected on his unflinching face, a still river that was never disturbed by any current or reflected any moon.

Sicheng's attention diverted back to the intercom as a filtered voice came through.

" _Yes, who is this?_ "

Sicheng stared at the intercom, silent. He knew things would work themselves out so that he would be able to get to the fated one. The force of Fate was strong like that.

" _Hello?_ ", the voice insisted, " _Oh, shoot, I forgot the intercom wasn't working, uhhh… okay, ring twice if you're here for the art class!_ "

Sicheng nodded, unsurprised yet content with the effectiveness of the force of Fate, and ringed twice. A moment later, the door buzzed and he made his way inside the building.

He was met by his reflection once more as he stepped into the elevator, the image more vivid than the one provided by the glass doors. Sicheng looked at it for less than a second before turning towards the rusty elevator door. Two reflections were more than enough for a day.

At last, he found himself at the door of the apartment. He knocked.

The door opened slowly, letting out a current of warm lighting and lively music that flooded Sicheng's senses. He found himself blinking at the change, a reflex reaction unusual for his otherwise unbothered self, and feeling somewhat shaken by the young man who peeked behind the door like a shy sun.

"Hi! You're Wang Wenhuan?", the young man asked with a bright smile. His hair was dark and it spiked messily in every direction, and his gentle face revealed to be the one of a transparent individual.

"Yes", Sicheng lied, trusting in the higher force’s capacity to give him cover. The young man offered him another smile before letting him in.

The interior was small and plagued by different species of plants, all thriving with life and dutifully taken care of, resting inside pots decorated in abstract, hand-made designs. Sicheng stood in the middle of the room, his dark figure making a sharp contrast with the animated qualities every single object in the room seemed to have. A siamese cat came to greet him, but once it was within Sicheng's range it stopped right on its tracks. It raised its icy eyes at him and hissed before running towards its owner.

"Ohh, what is it, Louis? Is my new student a threat?" The guy raised the cat to his chest and looked at Sicheng, a playful grin on his lips, "Hmm, let me guess… do you have a dog?"

Sicheng nodded.

"See, Louis? You dumb cat", he kissed the cat's head affectively before putting it back on the floor. The cat gave Sicheng another glare before sliding between its owner's legs and disappearing behind a futon. Sicheng noticed the guy had folded his washed jeans several times to compensate for his short height. He found it quite interesting, for some reason. "Oh, I'm so sorry, would you like something to drink? Some tea, maybe? Let me take your coat, you're all covered in snow!"

Sicheng removed his long coat in a swift motion, just then noticing the veil of snow that was clinging to the fabric like angel's tears. His eyes wandered towards the far corner of the room, where a record player produced smooth music that reached towards him like arms made of silk. Next to it, a small window revealed the bleak landscape of the city, all greys and blues against the warm lights of the apartment.

After hanging his coat the young man retrieved to the kitchen to make some tea, even though Sicheng hadn't given an answer to his offer.

" _I've got… Earl Grey, cinnamon, strawberry, digestive herbs_ ", his gleeful voice came from the kitchen, " _...mix of citrics, apple and honey, lemon, uhh…_ "

As he went on listing tea flavors Sicheng continued to inspect the room, pacing calmly over the wooden floor. There was a large table displaying a set of sharpened pencils and some blocks of paper sheets, all carefully arranged and waiting to be used. On the far side a white canvas over an easel stood next to a box of acrylic paints and a few glasses with water and brushes. There was not much room for anything else, only the futon under which the cat’s eyes shined with suspicion, a coffee table in front of it and the record player by the window. Every last remaining space was covered in either plants or photographs.

" _...green tea, white tea, red tea_ ", the guy went on, " _Oh, wait, I'm actually out of that one, hmm… mint, and cardamon!_ "

"Earl Grey is fine."

" _Oh. Okay_ ", the voice sounded disappointed, even annoyed. It almost made Sicheng laugh. He wondered what was going to be the cause of his death.

A few moments later he emerged from the kitchen with two mismatched and steaming mugs, and he placed them on the table with the art supplies, "Well, shall we?"

Sicheng approached quietly and took a seat, accepting the tea even though he probably wasn't going to drink it. His hands closed around the mug, unable to sense its warmth, and he looked down at the dark liquid, meeting his reflection once more. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly before looking away.

"Do you have any experience drawing? You said that's what you wanted to improve, rather than painting, right?"

Sicheng turned towards the young man, who was already hiding behind his own mug. His tea was a dark pink color, and the hot steam made his nose turn into the same shade. 

"Do all your students come to your house?"

The young man raised his eyebrows in surprise, gulping down quickly before putting his mug back on the table, "Yeah, why?"

Sicheng nodded silently. His gaze fell on the tin box filled with pencils, and he grabbed one of them gently before raising it to his eyes to observe the sharp end. "You shouldn't let strangers into your house, you never know who you're gonna get."

The guy got quiet after that, and when Sicheng turned to look at him he could see that his shoulders were tense, his expression slightly concerned. It made Sicheng uneasy. He didn’t like being feared. “I’m sorry”, he said, trying to sound less ominous. "I was only joking. I don't have experience drawing, by the way."

"Oh. Uh, okay", the guy shifted on his chair, and in his peripheral vision Sicheng saw the cat reappear to keep guard by his side. "Well, how about you start with a quick drawing? Just so I can see what your strengths and weaknesses are."

Sicheng nodded as the other one placed a blank page in front of him, "What should I draw?"

"Anything you want! Let your imagination fly."

Sicheng hummed, the white sheet staring back at him as he thought. The closest memory he had was of Yangyang playing on the rocks, so he settled on that.

His slender hand started sketching in soft lines, the sound of the pencil against the paper involved in a soothing dance with the music that still flowed from the record player. By his side the young man sipped his tea quietly, observing as the images on Sicheng's mind started to manifest in dark traces.

"Wow", he heard him say after a while, "You're quite good, are you sure you don't have any experience?"

Sicheng shook his head, still immersed in his drawing. Even though it was only a sketch each object had a modest delicacy, from the carefree figure of Yangyang with his arms spread out, to the path made of rocks and the dry trees in the background. Sicheng added some quick shadows here and there before sitting back and turning to the young man, who had his eyes glued to the page. He furrowed his eyebrows before meeting his gaze.

"I don't think I believe you", he said.

The force of Fate was starting to weaken. The time was close, surely.

"I never took any classes. I thought that was what you meant."

The guy squinted his eyes at him playfully before grabbing his drawing for a closer inspection. Sicheng looked at him as he did so, noticing just then the glinting earrings that kissed the side of his right ear. 

"I'm sorry, I forgot your name", Sicheng said in an impulse. It wasn't usual for him to know the name of the fated ones, since most of them he met when they were in an agonizing state or already gone.

"You're not the first", he replied, still focused on the drawing, "It's okay, you can call me Ten. Well, you have a good grasp on perspective and spatial distribution. We could start working on line values and—"

His words got interrupted by the bell, followed by some urgent knocking on the door that made the cat by their feet hiss. Sicheng could sense the moment approaching, like a big wave rising from the deep ocean, slow and menacing. 

Ten apologized before going to the door and looking through the eyehole. He let out a cheerful sound before opening the door with a smile.

"Tennie!", came a young voice from the other side of the door, and Sicheng saw a wavy-haired kid run right into Ten's embrace, burying his face in Ten's stomach as this one laughed.

"Hey, Guanheng. I'm happy to see you too, but I'm working right now."

"Sorry, he insisted", a new voice said, this one a bit older. As the kid let go of Ten, Sicheng got to see the other one, a skinny teenager with hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes.

"It's okay. Maybe you can come back in an hour?"

"But we have cookies! Look", the kid said, raising a basket almost as big as him over his head, "We're collecting money for the choir!"

"It's for the bus, actually", the teenager explained tiredly, "The church already used all the funds fixing the roof so there's nothing left for the annual road trip."

"Mrs. Xiao from 8B said she was gonna buy at least three bags! Come on Tennie, just one, pleaseee?"

Ten smiled at the kid fondly before ruffling his hair. Then he turned towards a small table by the door and grabbed a ceramic container shaped as a tortoise. He turned it over and emptied the contents on the table. Sicheng watched as Ten gathered and counted every last coin and bill, still unmoving on his seat. Then, his gaze traveled towards the door, from where a pair of hollow eyes were piercing him intently. The teenager looked at him with a grim expression, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to see through a foggy window. Sicheng held his gaze, unperturbed. 

"Is this enough?", Ten said, straightening up again and blocking the teenager from Sicheng's view.

"No, Ten, this is too much", the teenager complained, "We'll only take half—"

"You'll take all", Ten crouched so he could be eye-level with the kid, who had given up trying to hold the big basket that now lay on the floor, "Which ones do you recommend, kiddo?"

As the kid talked lively about the different types of cookies they had made Sicheng felt the teenager's eyes on him again, shamelessly staring. He was still frowning with suspicion, and he was so entranced by Sicheng's presence that he didn't hear the question Ten asked the kid, neither the wrong answer the kid gave him due to his ignorance. Sicheng hummed silently. That was it, surely. He could sense the menacing wave rising, blocking out the sun as it threatened to fall upon them all.

"You're still gonna take us to the movies tonight, right?", the kid asked as Ten stood up again, two bags of cookies in his hands and already eating one.

"Of course, it's our Friday night special!"

The kid showed him all his teeth in a wide smile. After a short exchange, Ten waved the boys goodbye and closed the door.

"Sorry about that", he told Sicheng as he went back to the table, munching on another cookie. "Those were my neighbors."

"You gave them all your savings", Sicheng observed. 

Ten raised his eyebrows, surprised by the remark. Then he laughed casually, "Yeah, well, they're good people. That choir is about the only good thing they have right now, with everything they're going through… oh, I really shouldn't be talking about it with, uh—"

"A stranger?"

Ten shifted on his spot, still holding onto the bags. He averted his gaze towards them, avoiding the question, "I'm gonna look for a plate."

Sicheng waited as he went into the kitchen. He heard a low growl by his side, and turned around to find the cat staring at him, the same fiery expression as the teenager. It bared its teeth at him with a hiss. Sicheng wondered who was going to take care of it. He wondered who was going to take care of the plants. He wondered who was going to take the kids to the movies that night, if any. Sicheng never wondered about those things, and yet, as he waited for Ten to come back from the kitchen he found himself doing so. 

And then, he heard it. The wave, starting to crash.

It started as a faint cough, coming from the kitchen. Sicheng could hear the sound the cookies made as Ten poured them into a ceramic bowl, the crunching sound of the empty bag as he disposed of it. Another cough. Ten reappeared, a concerned expression on his face as he placed the plate in the middle of the table. The cookies were the color of honey, covered in chocolate chips and looking fairly innocent.

"Excuse me", Ten said as he stifled another cough, raising a hand to his throat, "I'll be right back."

Sicheng stayed still as he watched Ten retrieve into the kitchen once more. Not even the sound of the tap water could conceal the intense coughing that followed, paired with gasps if air. It was almost inevitable now, the wave and its natural force was shattering everything in its way, cold and merciless. 

The cat meowed and ran to the kitchen as the coughs kept coming, the water from the tab still flowing. Sicheng could hear some fumbling and objects falling to the floor, and then the repeated sound of wood on wood as Ten struggled to open a drawer. The cat meowed and screeched, the coughing increased in roughness and the gasps of air became more desperate as the banging sound of wood on wood started going faster.

At last, Sicheng broke from his static posture and rose from his seat, his dark figure gliding silently towards the kitchen.

When he got to it Ten had already given up on the drawer and was heading to the phone on the wall, his back to Sicheng. His body was curled over and his hand was on his neck, which Sicheng could see had turned a dark shade of red. The cat, who had been meowing incessantly, turned to Sicheng as it sensed his presence and hissed at him once more, arching its back in a menacing posture.

Ten finally reached the phone, but as he picked it up a violent cough attacked his body, sending him to his knees and leaving the phone to hang from its cord. The phone swinged over Ten’s curled body like a deadly pendulum, counting down the seconds to his death. Sicheng knew that even if he got to call someone, it would be in vain. Sicheng was there for a reason, after all.

But as he stood by the doorway, watching Ten's miserable attempts at standing up, something inside of him shifted. An unfamiliar wind blew on the clouds of his unchanging heart, altering the sky that had always been gray, that he believed would always be gray. He remembered the kid's bright smile. He thought about the cat and the plants, about the endless list of tea flavors Ten offered even to a stranger. Death was rarely fair, and Sicheng knew that. And even so, maybe because of his previous ruminations about what was expected of him, Sicheng felt that this time he couldn't remain passive in the face of injustice. After what could only be compared to an eternity of unmoving sentiment, the faintest wind felt like a raging hurricane. And guided by that wind, Sicheng's body moved forward without a second thought.

With steel determination he headed towards the stubborn drawer and placed a long wooden spoon in the gap between this one and the counter. Then, with a sharp and precise movement he hit the spoon with the palm of his hand. The drawer opened instantly with a loud sound that startled the cat and Ten, who turned to look at him as he still gasped for air, his face dangerously red.

Sicheng looked frantically inside the drawer, his hand closing on one of the epi-pens that were carefully arranged inside. Then, he let himself fall next to Ten's convulsive body.

"What do I do?", he asked, starting to feel the hurricane inside of him gaining speed. Ten pointed towards his leg, and Sicheng wasted no more time before grasping the epi-pen tightly and sticking it to his thigh.

Ten's eyes closed shut as he winced. He put his hand on top of Sicheng's and held it there, making sure Sicheng didn't retrieve the injection. A few seconds later he let go, and Sicheng retrieved it from his leg. 

He watched as Ten's breathing became more even, his face going back to its normal color again. He still had his eyes closed.

Sicheng looked down at his own hands as he realised what he had done, just then noticing how his breathing had also become agitated. He let the epi-pen fall to the floor, and it rolled along the kitchen tiles until it bumped against the cat's legs. It had stopped meowing and hissing, and it stared at the both of them in silence for a moment before going to rest by Ten's side.

Water kept flowing from the tab, forgotten, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. Inside of him, Sicheng could feel the strong winds coming to a halt, slowly returning to their static nature. He furrowed his eyebrows and raised a hand to his chest. Had he imagined it?

Ten opened his eyes as he felt the cat's fur brushing his hand. He ran his fingers along its back before his gaze fell on Sicheng.

"Call an ambulance."

"You did _what?_ "

Sicheng shushed Yangyang, putting a hand on his mouth and throwing a quick glance at the back of his friend's cave. Yangyang's voice echoed through the cavernous walls, making Sicheng tense up.

"I couldn't let him die", he whispered once the echoes faded, liberating his friend's mouth, "It wasn't fair."

"That's not our concern!", Yangyang whispered back, "I knew something was up with you lately. Is it about those stupid questions you asked me the other day?"

Sicheng shook his head in frustration, wrapping his arms around his legs. He could barely see his friend in the obscurity of the cave, but he didn't miss the way he pursed his lips in disapproval. Sicheng clicked his tongue. "Never mind those questions. What's going to happen now? Do you think they're going to send another one after him?"

" _Him_?", Yangyang raised his voice again, making him flinch, "Don't worry about him, worry about you!"

"I don't care about me. What could they even do? Punish me? This place is already miserable, there's nothing they could do to make it worse."

Yangyang mumbled some complaint, his voice bouncing against the cavern walls like rabid ghosts. Sicheng didn't know what he expected of him. He still wasn't certain how he himself felt about the whole situation. His mind kept wandering towards the image of Ten's convulsive body over the kitchen floor, the incessant meowing of the cat, the harsh sound of the water on the forgotten sink. 

As more time passed from the incident, what Sicheng had experienced inside his chest seemed to fade into an uncertain memory, making him doubt if it had actually happened. It was fantasy to believe that something akin to human sentiment could be ignited inside of him, when for as long as he could remember his existence had been one long straight line, a moorland as vast and plain as his sight could reach. But even if most of his memories remained in the shadows, he knew that never before had he deviated from his path in such a way. Never defied Fate in such a way. And that alone was enough to keep him wondering.

Sicheng went back to his cave not long after that, assuring Yangyang that he was going to leave the matter alone and pretend like it had never happened. By the look in his friend's eyes he knew he didn't believe his words, but he didn't complain any longer. 

He stopped by the entrance of his cave and looked up at the condensed clouds, still grey, still unmoving. He wished they would bathe him in merciless rain. He wished a shy sun would come out from behind them and stretch its arms towards him, even if his skin couldn't taste their sweet embrace. But hopeless as he was, there wasn't enough wishing that could make him shed a tear over it. He knew there wasn't going to be any rain or any sun. Without hope, desire turned into a dry leaf hanging onto an even drier tree. Feeling sad about it would mean he believed in a potential change. And as the church he had visited felt empty with only him inside it, his wishes resonated inside his own numb body like a whispered promise, unable to escape it and doomed to be forgotten.

His fingers trailed along the familiar roughness of the walls as he made his way into the cave, his body slightly bent over, and he walked for a few meters before laying down. The weak light from the entrance didn't reach him there, where the darkness that surrounded him concealed him like a comfortable blanket. He didn't pay any mind to the recurring whispers that came flowing from the back of the cave, feeding off a darkness so deep not even the brightest sun could illuminate it. Sicheng let the whispers slide above him, willing his body and mind to stay just as he was, facing the grey sky in front of him instead of the obscurity behind, until exhaustion kissed his eyes shut and guided him towards a dreamless sleep.

Time wasn't something Sicheng had a grasp on. Most of his days went by in a steady flow of meaningless moments that faded into the next, with him being a distant shadow on the wall that couldn't even aspire for some protagonism. And yet, after the incident he couldn't help but feel like Time had become immensely prominent, making itself be noticed as it surrounded him in a heavy and unshakable net.

He had started to grow weary of the undying days spent under the grey sky, his gaze lost in the deserted land beyond the cliff. His limbs had started to feel heavier every time he had to visit another agonizing body. And his mind, no matter how much he tried not to, kept revisiting the apartment of the art teacher, wondering if someone else had granted him a visit to do what Sicheng couldn't. 

Time seemed to pass as if Sicheng spent it staring passively at a clock, watching the seconds go by in slow procession, the space between the numbers becoming wider every time. And because of this new perception, it felt like an eternity before he found himself standing in front of the old building once more, his finger already on the bell and his mind admitting no second thoughts.

His reflection in the foggy glass doors looked just the same as last time, but now there was a light snow behind it, creating angry whirlwinds whose cold couldn’t penetrate Sicheng’s insensitive body. He didn't spare his impassive face more than a glance before looking back at the intercom, waiting, hoping even, that his efforts for changing the course of Fate hadn't been fruitless.

And they hadn't.

" _Hello?_ "

At the sound of Ten’s voice Sicheng was overcome by relief, but when he opened his mouth to answer no sound came out. The force of Fate wasn’t by his side this time. This time, he had gone there by his own will. A will he hadn’t made use of for what felt like an eternity.

" _The intercom isn't working so ring twice if you come from repairs!_ "

As he heard this half a smile appeared on Sicheng's face. He ringed twice.

This time Ten was already waiting at the door when Sicheng stepped out of the elevator, jumping from one foot to the other as if trying to warm himself up and with his arms wrapped around his body, his hair peeking from under a beanie with a fluffy pom-pom that bounced with every movement he made. Sicheng felt relief again. He looked alright. He was wearing a big wool sweater that reached almost to his knees and his face was half covered by an enormous red scarf, which he pulled down when he saw Sicheng.

"Oh", Ten said, raising his eyebrows, "You're not from repairs."

"I'm not." Sicheng hid his hands inside his sleeves, an instinctive reaction that happened too fast for him to ponder on it. "Sorry for showing up uninvited, I wanted to know if you were alright but I lost your phone number."

Ten just looked at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out a perplexing riddle. Then a slow grin started to form on his lips. "You came all the way here just to know if I was okay?"

"I live nearby", Sicheng said quickly, "I was— I walked by your building and I thought I should ask."

An unpleasant, tingling sensation started to arise inside Sicheng’s stomach. It wasn’t often that he felt emotion, so the faintest trace of it made him uneasy, and now that he found himself in this rare situation he felt as if he was falling right off the cliff and towards the pointed rocks that waited at the bottom. 

Sicheng looked at his feet as he felt something walking between his legs, and he widened his eyes in surprise when he found the cat nuzzling his head against him. 

"The cat… didn't hiss", he observed.

"Of course he didn't, silly, you saved my life."

Sicheng looked up at Ten again as this one offered him a playful smile, as if he meant it as a joke. Sicheng returned his smile with a shy one before looking back at the cat. If only he knew. “You shouldn’t keep all your epi-pens in the same place”, he said as he crouched next to the cat and caressed his head gently. He almost looked like a whole different cat now.

“Yeah, that’s what the doctor said. You’d think living with this thing my whole life I should know better, huh?”, Ten said with a huff. “No, but, seriously. You _did_ save my life. Thank you.”

Sicheng nodded, "In the end it was a good thing I was there.”

"See? So long for your ominous discourse about letting strangers inside my house.”

“I still abide by that discourse.”

Ten hummed, “Yeah, well. Thank you for checking up on me. I'm okay, by the way. Well, at least my health is." He looked inside his apartment and sighed heavily, "My window got stuck and now my apartment feels like freaking Syberia."

"That explains the outfit", Sicheng said, looking up at his beanie with a little smile, "Although not that pom-pom."

"It's all I had in hand!",Ten said defensively. "Anyway, would you like to come in? I can't offer much cover from the cold but I can make some tea."

Sicheng looked back at the cat, who was now starting to leave a trail of white hair on Sicheng's black clothes. He hadn't foreseen this. He didn't know what exactly he was expecting when returning to Ten's apartment. It probably wasn't a good idea to keep engaging, but before he could keep on pondering about it there was a ringing coming from inside.

"Oh, that should be the person from repairs", Ten said, throwing a quick glance inside, "Come in, I'm sure they'll be quick."

Ten disappeared into the apartment without waiting for a response, so Sicheng found himself with no option but to follow.

As Ten went into the kitchen Sicheng took a look at the small living room. It was still bathed in a warm light, but no music was playing from the record player by the open window, which was covered by a blanket in a poor attempt to keep the cold out. There were some snowflakes already melting on the floor underneath it as the blanket danced softly with the wind. Sicheng was certain the room was freezing, even if his body couldn’t perceive it.

" _...ring twice if you're from repairs!_ ", came Ten's voice from the kitchen. Sicheng shook his head in reprimand. It was such a careless thing to do for someone who lived in the city, it was almost as if he was begging for trouble to come his way.

Sicheng took a seat by the table as Ten came back from the kitchen.

“I put the heating in max but it’s still cold as hell, isn’t it?”, Ten said as he rubbed a gloved hand against his red nose. Then he pointed at the wall behind Sicheng, “The heater is over there, if you want to warm yourself up.”

“I’m okay.”

Ten shrugged and opened the door to wait for the person from repairs, and Sicheng sighed as he rested his uninterested face on his hand. His eyes wandered towards the ink drawings that were scattered over the table, abstract figures decorating the blank pages like mystic spectres. He hummed silently as he grabbed one of them to give it a closer look. He couldn’t tell what the figures meant to represent, but there was a liberating element to them that ignited interesting thoughts in Sicheng’s mind. He wondered if Ten had made them.

“Hi! You _are_ from repairs, right?”, he heard Ten say from the door. Sicheng turned to face him again, and when he saw the newcomer his whole body stiffened.

The newcomer was just as gaunt and ominous as Sicheng, clad in pitch dark clothing and with black hair framing his frigid face. He locked eyes with Sicheng, his gaze as sharp as a sword made only to be held in winter. 

Something akin to a shiver ran through Sicheng’s spine like cold, tiny feet as the cat let out a hiss. For Ten it could pass as an ordinary person, but Sicheng knew better. He found himself rising to his feet as the stranger stepped inside, his movements slow and precise. He had a toolbox with him, being held by a firm and gloved hand. His eyes never left Sicheng, and neither did his.

“...for a whole day, I think I might be catching a cold!”, Ten complained as he closed the door behind him, unaware of the other’s exchange. “I tried my best to cover it up but as you may have noticed it wasn’t any good. Anyway, would you like some tea? To sip while you work? That jacket won’t protect you from the cold, and you’ll be right beside the window!”

Ten went back into the kitchen, not waiting for a response and leaving Sicheng alone with the stranger. He didn’t say anything as he stared right into Sicheng’s eyes, a malicious grin on his face.

“ _...strawberry, honey and apple, cinnamon, green tea, red tea_ ”, Ten’s voice came flowing from the kitchen, going unnoticed by the other two.

The cat hissed again.

“I’ve got this”, Sicheng said, low and firm. He hoped his face wouldn't give away the nervous feeling that was starting to grip him by the throat.

The newcomer tilted his head at him, a playful but sinister manner that made Sicheng feel sick. “Are you sure about that?”

“ _...cardamom, vanilla, rooibos, lavender…_ ”

Silence stretched between them, a tense cord screeching in agony as it threatened to break.

Sicheng pursed his lips. He took a step forward. “You should leave.”

The stranger grinned at him again. His eyes were as dark and hollow as those of a shark. He glanced at the kitchen from where Ten’s voice was still flowing, ignorant to the situation. He turned to Sicheng again, and he stared at him for such a long time Sicheng thought time had frozen completely. He could hear the merciless wind to his left, the blanket thrown over the window flapping incessantly. “What has been written cannot be changed”, the stranger said in an icy voice. “Don’t think you have that power.”

Sicheng remained still, his shoulders tense and his fists clenched by his sides, as the stranger granted him one last look before silently turning towards the door. He was gone in a second, leaving a trail of his dark aura hanging on the room. 

Sicheng covered the distance to the door in a few long steps and locked the door, spying through the eyehole with a frightful eye. He got to see the flickering lights of the corridor for just a moment before they turned off completely, leaving him to stare at the darkness. He waited for a few moments before stepping back again.

The cat, who had remained by his feet, wiggled its tail before sitting down by the door. Sicheng let out a heavy breath and walked towards the kitchen. He stood by the door, watching as Ten held the cupboard door open and looked inside.

“...lemon, mint and green tea!”, he said before sighing heavily.

"Did you buy some new ones?”

Ten startled at Sicheng’s voice, turning to him with a jump, “Gee, you scared me!”

“Sorry." Sicheng gave him a shy smile and rested his body against the door frame. The Stranger’s words had left him uneasy, but at least he was gone now. Even so, he still had to think about the implications of his presence. “He left.”

“What?” Ten pouted, and he looked so miserable it made Sicheng smile again in sympathy. “Ah, don’t tell me I listed all the damn tea flavors for nothing.”

“Maybe you scared him.”

Ten squinted his eyes at him before reaching inside the cupboard for one of the little boxes. He had to stand on his toes to reach, and Sicheng noticed he was wearing socks with multi-color stripes.

“I suppose you want Earl Grey”, Ten said drily as he opened the box.

“I’m willing to try a new one.”

“Really?” Ten looked so excited one would think Sicheng had just offered him eternal life. “Which one? If you make me go through all of them again I’ll kill you.”

Sicheng mused at his choice of words. “I’ll trust your good taste.”

Ten hummed, pleased with Sicheng’s choice, and reached inside the cupboard again. He took out a white box and put tea bags into two mugs. As he poured hot water into them he complained again, “Ughh, I will die from hypothermia with the apartment like this.”

“I can take a look at the window”, Sicheng offered.

Ten sighed, “Alright. Sorry, I’m the worst host ever.” Then, a slow grin started spreading on his face as he looked up from the mugs, “Wait, I think there’s some cake left in the fridge. It was Mrs. Huang’s birthday and she came to give me some yesterday! That’ll make up for it.”

He put the kettle back on the stove and walked towards the fridge with excitement, and just when he was a feet away Sicheng noticed the puddle of water.

“Wait!” Sicheng jumped and ran to the fridge, placing his hand on the handle and blocking it from Ten with his other arm.

“What, what?”, Ten yelled, hiding behind his hands and running back to the kitchen counter with jittery legs, “Is it a roach? Please tell me it’s not a roach.”

Sicheng sighed, “It’s not a roach.” He gave a pointed look at Ten’s striped socks before glaring at him, “Were you really going to open the fridge barefoot?”

“I’m not _barefoot_ ”, Ten complained, letting his hands fall to his sides with a frown, “I’m wearing socks.”

“And your kitchen floor is wet.”

Ten looked at the small puddle of water under the fridge and winced. “Oops.”

Sicheng shook his head with a sigh before opening the fridge himself. “You have to be more careful. It’s like you’re begging for bad things to happen.”

“Maybe I like flirting with death”, Ten said playfully. Sicheng pretended not to be affected by his words as he spotted a flower-patterned plate that held one particularly big portion of cake. It had whipped cream and two cherries on top, shining with the promise of sweetness. 

“Is this the one?”, Sicheng said as he took it out.

“Yes!”, Ten rubbed his hands with a smile and grabbed some forks. Sicheng smiled silently at his cheerfulness as they made their way back to the living room, Ten carrying the steaming mugs. After placing them on the table he gave Sicheng a curious look. “You know, you’re way less creepy than I thought.”

Sicheng raised his eyebrows and let out a short laugh, not knowing how to react to that.

“Oh, don’t act so shocked”, Ten said as he took a seat and took the plate from Sicheng’s hands. He placed it in the middle of the table and started eating right away. “So mysterious and quiet, with that tragic poet attire.”

“I’m not a poet”, Sicheng said, taking a seat in front of him, “nor mysterious.”

“Mysterious people don’t know they are mysterious, that’s the whole point.”

Sicheng looked down at his mug. The tea was the color of honey, and it smelled of cinnamon. “What flavor is it?”

“I thought you trusted my judgement.”

Sicheng gave him a sideways smile and raised the mug to his lips, letting the steam rise to his skin and blurry his vision. Just as he was about to take a sip the doorbell rang, and he turned towards the door so violently his tea spilled on his hands.

“Careful!”, Ten said with a wince, grabbing some napkins and taking Sicheng’s hands in his, “Did you burn yourself?”

Sicheng diverted his attention from the door just for a second to focus on Ten as he wiped his hands with a concerned expression. “No”, he said. He wouldn’t have flinched even if the tea was boiling, but he didn’t move away from Ten's touch.

Someone knocked on the door, grabbing Sicheng’s attention again. The cat, who was still standing guard next to it, lowered his head and started sniffing silently. Sicheng felt himself tensing up again.

“Coming!”, Ten called as he let go of Sicheng’s hands, shushing the cat out of the way before opening the door.

“Tennie! You’re alive!”

Sicheng felt a wave of relief run through his body, and he sighed heavily before letting himself fall back on the chair. 

“Of course I’m alive you tiny devil”, Ten said as he welcomed the kid into his arms, “Who would keep you from staying out of trouble?”

“Not me, since he won’t ever listen."

Sicheng recognized the voice of the teenager, hidden from his sight behind Ten. The whole situation resembled the first one so much it made Sicheng uneasy.

“Are you okay?”, the teenager said. “Guanheng and I saw an ambulance outside last night, and then you didn’t show up for movie night.”

Last night? Had it only been one day? Sicheng had been certain at least a week had passed since the incident.

Ten laughed awkwardly, “Yeah, sorry about that. I had a minor inconvenience…”

Just as he said this Ten moved to rest his shoulder against the door frame, and Sicheng found himself looking straight at the sulky teenager. He seemed to notice his gaze, cause he turned to him too with the same tired eyes as last time, maybe even more tired. A shadow seemed to pass before them as he recognized him, and he took a step forward.

“It’s that guy again”, he said in a low voice, looking at Ten with fiery eyes. “Is he bothering you? Did he do something to you?”

“What? No, no, no!”, Ten said with a laugh. “He’s the one who saved my life!”

The teenager frowned and turned to Sicheng. He was still glaring.

“So you _did_ die, almost!”, the kid said, pulling from Ten’s red scarf to regain his attention.

Ten shrugged. “I just had an allergic reaction.”

“Oh, God, not from the cookies?”, the teenager said worriedly.

“Of course not! The cookies were great.”

Sicheng shifted his gaze to the little table beside the door. One of the cookie bags was still there, untouched. 

“Told you! Made them myself”, the kid said smugly.

The teenager huffed, “ _I_ made them, you just added the chips.”

Sicheng let his mind wander as Ten kept on chatting with the kids. He thought about the stranger with the hollow eyes, and his ominous words. Was the course of Fate so rigid? Was he so powerless? He looked at Ten and the way the pom-pom on his woolen hat swayed joyfully. He thought about his easy smile and his selflessness. Why would Fate want to grant such an honest soul with an early end?

"Wenhuan?"

Sicheng snapped back from his thoughts as he noticed Ten was looking right at him, expecting an answer. "Sorry?"

"I asked if it's okay if they come in for a while."

Sicheng nodded, so they came inside. As soon as the kid saw the cake his eyes lit up.

"You still have some cake! Oh, Tennie, can I have some, _pleeease_??", he said as he ran to the table, already licking his lips. "Father ate all of it."

The teenager stood silently by the door, looking at the cake with a miserable expression. Sicheng noticed the dark circles under his eyes had grown since last time.

"You can have my part", Ten said as he went into the kitchen to grab another plate, ruffling the kid's hair in the process. "But I already promised Wenhuan the other half."

The teenager glanced at Sicheng, his eyes still dubious, before going to sit beside his brother.

"They can have it", Sicheng told Ten as he came back from the kitchen. "I'm not really hungry, and I still have to take a look at your window."

Ten pouted at him, "You sure?"

Sicheng nodded, and the kid clapped excitedly before digging his fork in the cake. The teenager grabbed the other fork silently, his wary eyes never leaving Sicheng.

"Let me take that blanket down", Ten said as he trotted towards the window, dodging the plants that stood in the way with agile movements. Sicheng followed quietly and watched as Ten reached towards the knot he had made with the blanket.

"My name is not actually Wenhuan", Sicheng said, looking down as the cat approached them.

Ten turned his head to him and frowned, "It's not?"

"I don't tell my name to people I don't know", Sicheng said, aware of how strange that sounded but trying to make it convincing. "For security."

"That stranger-danger discourse has really gotten to you, huh?" Ten let out an exasperated sound as his fingers struggled to untie the knot, standing on his toes and stretching his arms uncomfortably. 

Sicheng took a step forward, "I'll do it."

"I'm not weak!"

"I never said that."

Ten sighed heavily and landed back on his feet, letting his arms fall to his sides. Sicheng smiled and reached towards the knot easily. He untied it quickly and the blanket fell to the side, letting in a whirl of snow and the pale light of the afternoon.

Ten complained as he raised the scarf to his nose, "You only did it fast because I had already loosened it."

"Of course."

Sicheng looked down as the cat meowed, looking straight at him. Sicheng reached towards his head and gave him a quick pat.

"I don't know what happened", Ten began to explain as he tried to pull down the window with no results. "I only wanted to let in a bit of clean air and when I tried closing it again it got stuck."

The cat meowed again, louder. He stood on his back legs and buried his paws in Sicheng's leg, making him flinch.

"Louis, cut it off", Ten said, grabbing him easily and pulling him from Sicheng. "Sorry, he must be hungry."

The cat got free from Ten's grasp and wiggled his tail. As Ten went on talking he approached Sicheng again and sat down by his side, staring at him with fierce eyes. Sicheng stared back at him, feeling as a slow shiver started to climb up his spine. 

"...maybe giving it a good shake or something, like you did with the kitchen drawer, although with less force _if you may_ cause you almost tore that drawer to shreds."

Sicheng looked back at Ten just as this one put his hands on the window sill and leaned forward, letting the snow fall on his woolen hat as he faced upwards.

"Maybe something got stuck from the outside, if I can reach—"

Sicheng felt lightning run through his body as he grabbed Ten by the neck of his sweater and pulled him back inside, sending him straight into his chest as the window frame came down violently and snapped close with a deafening _bang!_

He felt his breathing stop for a second, holding onto Ten as the cat hissed at the window. There was a moment of silence as they all stared at the merciless blizzard that made the glasses tremble.

" _Whew_!", Ten said with a laugh, " _Now_ it decides to close, the fucker."

"Language!", came the teenager's voice from behind. He and the kid were also staring at the window, forks suspended in the air and the cake almost gone.

Sicheng looked back at Ten, still close to him. He let go of his sweater and took a step back as this one turned to him. His upper body was covered in snow, but otherwise he seemed unperturbed by what had just happened.

"I think you might just be my guardian angel", he said with a smirk. "So, what's my angel's name?"

Sicheng sighed and leaned his back against the wall, his shoulders relaxing. The cat walked towards him and nuzzled his head on his leg, purring softly.

"It's Sicheng."

Ten had insisted for him to stay a little longer, thank him with dinner for having saved his life yet again, but Sicheng had declined his offer politely. An unfamiliar sensation had started to take over him the longer he stayed in the apartment, especially with the kid and the teenager there, the latter throwing distrusting glances at him every chance he got. He had also grown restless not long after the window incident, and could already feel his bones dragging him back to his cave, to the deserted land where he belonged.

As he waited for the elevator he looked down at the piece of paper he held in his hand. He traced the delicate numbers with a leather-gloved finger, his face only slightly perturbed by emotion.

 _I still owe you that class!_ , Ten had told him as he scribbled his phone number. _Give me a call so we can discuss schedules._

Sicheng pondered on whether it was a good idea to keep coming back. The cold eyes of the Stranger came to his mind, as vivid as if he was seeing them right then and there, and he felt his shoulders tensing. Was he going to return, if Sicheng wasn't around? Was someone else going to?

Just as the elevator reached his floor Sicheng heard a loud noise coming from his side, and he turned around. At the end of the corridor and by the last door the teenager stood silently, his body shrinked slightly as he listened to the yells that came from the other side. The kid was nowhere to be seen.

Sicheng opened the elevator door and stood with his hand on the handle, watching. The teenager had gone completely stiff, his fists clenched to his sides as the yelling increased in volume and tone, reaching a deafening screech that made Sicheng's skin crawl. The teenager wrapped his arms around him and ran away, heading towards the stairs and disappearing from Sicheng’s sight.

Sicheng kept looking at the end of the corridor, frozen, as if held hostage by the screeching that came from the last apartment. The greenish lights surrounding him blinked erratically, feeding the shadows that lurked in the corners every time they lost power and making the stains of humidity on the walls rearrange in macabre images. Sicheng felt his stomach turn as his eyes fell on the number _7F_ hanging crooked and covered in oxide over the scratched wood of the door. 

A loud beeping sound startled him, bringing him back to his senses and making him look back at the elevator. He hurried inside and closed the door, and the sound stopped immediately. As he willed his breathing to calm he looked down at his fisted hand, only then realising the tension that was gripping his muscles. He opened his hand slowly, and the white paper unfolded over his leather glove like a crushed flower.

"Where were you? I waited for you all day."

Sicheng looked at Yangyang, who was standing near the cliff with his arms crossed. Only grey clouds surrounded him, heavy and ominous, as he stood on one of the dry tree trunks. Sicheng approached and looked up at him. "Why were you waiting for me?"

"I was bored." 

Sicheng grinned at this, gaining a kick in the stomach that sent him reeling backwards. He frowned and patted his clothes to get the dust off him.

"You were with him again, weren't you?" 

Sicheng looked up at Yangyang again. He was still with his arms crossed, unmoving on top of his tree. Sicheng didn't respond.

Yangyang huffed and looked away, towards the endless landscape in front of them. "It's dangerous", he said. "You have to stop."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"But you will." Yangyang turned to him again, his expression so uncharacteristically grim it unsettled him. There were shadows clinging to his face, ones that hadn't been there before. Sicheng wondered when they had appeared. "We're not supposed to engage."

"I'm not engaging, I just wanted to make sure he was alright."

"That's exactly what engaging is! Don't you get it? You won't be able to come back if you keep doing this. You're gonna leave me all alone in this horrible place."

"I thought you liked it here."

Yangyang shook his head and jumped to the floor angrily, sending dust flying everywhere. He started walking towards the caves, not even granting Sicheng another look. Sicheng furrowed his eyebrows and went after him.

"Hey." Sicheng grabbed Yangyang's arm. This one stopped, eyes fixed on the ground. "I'm not going to leave you."

Yangyang bit his lower lip. Sicheng could feel his slender arm tensing up under his grip. He had grown skinnier. "I keep thinking about what you said. I don't want to, but I can't help it. It's making the voices angry." Yangyang looked in the direction of the caves, a shadow crossing his eyes. He didn't say anything for a long time. "I was afraid you weren't coming back", he went on, "and that I was going to be trapped here forever. Without knowing how I even got here."

"That's not going to happen."

Yangyang still wouldn't look at him. He jerked his arm from Sicheng's grasp. "Don't make promises. It's dangerous."

Sicheng didn't follow him this time, and he stood under the heavy sky as he watched Yangyang's slender frame disappear inside the darkness of his cave. Not long after that he went to his own, tracing the rough walls with his fingers until he too merged with the shadows. He laid down with his head towards the entrance of the cave, a faint and opaque light coming from the unchanging sky.

The voices didn't take long to manifest, slithering through the cracks of the cave and curling around Sicheng to poison his head with their whispers. Sicheng covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and mustering all the strength from his absent spirit he turned towards the back of the cave. The voices rose in anger, spitting their warnings and sinister words at him. But Sicheng didn't move, and not long after that he fell asleep.

" _I know it's you, Sicheng, but just so you don't come with the stranger-danger discourse again… how many times have you saved my life already?_ "

Sicheng grinned, his finger hovering over the now familiar bell. A whirlwind ruffled his dark hair as he rang three times. The cookies, the fridge, the window. The door buzzed, and he went into the building.

He nearly bumped into the kid as he stepped out of the elevator, only saved by a lady who put her gentle hands on the kid's shoulders.

"Careful, Guanheng", the woman said. She locked eyes with Sicheng, but her cold glare made him look away. There was something in her eyes that made him uneasy. The kid, on the other hand, let out a giggle and waved at him. Sicheng looked at him for a moment before waving back. "Excuse me", the woman said in a low voice, grabbing the kid by the hand and pulling him towards the corridor.

Sicheng watched them in silence for a moment, until the kid turned around and yelled, "See you later, Tennie!"

At this, Sicheng turned the other way to find that Ten was standing by his door, waving at the kid with a joyful smile. There was another kid by his side and a few adults waiting in the corridor. His smile didn't falter when his eyes fell on Sicheng, and he beckoned him to come closer.

He waited a few steps away from the door as Ten conversed with the adults, who Sicheng deduced were there to collect the children that kept appearing from Ten's apartment. When the last of them finally left, Ten turned to look at him. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, it's always a bit chaotic with the kids."

Sicheng took a step closer and threw a tentative look inside the apartment.

"Don't worry, they're all gone now", Ten said jokingly as he let him inside. "You don't like kids?"

"They're alright, I guess." Sicheng crouched as Louis came to greet him, and he petted his head with a little smile.

"At least you like cats, otherwise you'd have to find yourself another teacher."

Sicheng had almost forgotten he was there to take a class. He wondered how long he was going to keep this up. Ten seemed to be alright, so neither the Stranger nor other malicious entity had paid him a visit, which meant Sicheng didn't need to keep checking up on him. But as he looked up to find Ten smiling at him he thought, maybe it wasn't a bad thing to do so.

Sicheng waited as Ten cleared the table, which was covered in multiple pencils, paint brushes and crayons. He had put a nylon mantelpiece over it, and he took that out too.

"I'm guessing that means you don't think I'm gonna ruin your table?", Sicheng asked as Ten folded it and stuffed it inside a little cabinet. Before closing the door he turned to him and tilted his head playfully.

"I only use it with the kids, but if you don't think you can handle it I have no problem putting it back."

"I think I'm okay." Ten gestured towards the table so Sicheng took a seat, hanging his coat on the back of his chair. "You give classes to all those kids?"

"Yeah. I started with the particular classes recently, actually, that's why you're the only one for now… the only adult, I mean. I figured it'd be kind of weird putting you with the kids."

"Weird for them or for me?"

"Well, you _are_ kind of spooky", Ten joked as he took a seat next to him. "But I already told you that."

"I thought I looked like a poet."

"Yeah, Edgar Allan Poe kind of poet."

Sicheng hummed and turned his gaze towards the little tin box with the sharpened pencils, all ready to use.

"I like Allan Poe, though", Ten said quietly, but when Sicheng turned to him again he was already changing the topic. "I think last time we talked about line values?"

Sicheng spent the following minutes listening as Ten talked to him about the different types of pencils and which one to use depending on what he was intending to draw, glancing at the door from time to time, fearing that the Stranger might return. As time went by Sicheng felt himself relax, and he started to pay full attention to what Ten was teaching him. He nodded and asked questions, and he completed the exercises Ten told him to do. He realized Ten was a good teacher, and even if he hadn’t intended on taking lessons he explained everything with such dedication he began to grow interested. Although after spending about thirty minutes drawing the outline of different objects Sicheng did start to get quite bored.

“Can I draw people instead?”, he asked after a while. “I don’t want to draw dead things.”

He saw Ten repress a smile at that, “Sure. Alright, I normally tell my students to try and draw each other before teaching the basics but since you're all alone I could look for a magazine or something—"

"Why don't I draw you?"

Ten raised his eyebrows, his lips parted mid-sentence. Then he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that could work, too." He stood up and walked around the table to sit in front of Sicheng, fixing his hair absent-mindedly. “Since you seem to have some experience I will make it harder for you so I won’t look straight at you, you’ll have to draw me in a forty-five angle.”

“I think you’re just shy”, Sicheng said with a little smile as he grabbed a blank page.

Ten huffed, “I’m not shy.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not!”, his eyes flickered towards Sicheng and back at the table, “Get to it, now.”

Sicheng didn’t know if he had drawn a human face before. His memories were still covered in a dense fog, the only images clinging to his consciousness being the ones of the cliff and his desolated cave. Still, when he started drawing he felt as if his hand knew what it was doing. He let his mind go completely blank as he focused on Ten’s features, the way his nose went upwards just a bit at the tip, the curves of his lips, the multiple earrings that adorned his right ear. As he did this he realized two things. The first one was that he hadn’t looked at someone for such a long time, that he remembered. And the other one being that he wouldn’t mind looking at Ten for hours, even if that was the only thing he did.

From time to time he would catch Ten’s eyes flickering towards him quickly before focusing back on the table, and every time Ten would try to suppress a laugh.

"I knew you were shy", Sicheng said.

"Not shy! It’s just that I'm not used to being on this side of the canvas, so to speak. It's an interesting power dynamic."

"Which one has the power?"

Ten met his gaze, a quick spark appearing in his eyes before looking back at the table. "You really like asking questions, don't you?"

"I could stop, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No", Ten said quickly, "I mean, I'm glad you're opening up. You barely spoke the day we met."

Sicheng looked at him, apologetic, "Sorry if I creeped you out."

Ten shrugged, "It takes more than that to creep me out."

"Weren't you trembling the other day, when you thought there was a roach in your kitchen?"

"Alright, I think I liked you better when you didn't talk."

Sicheng looked down at the drawing with a little smile. He finished after a few more minutes and handed the sheet to Ten, who grabbed it with a playful sigh as he sat back on his chair. He considered the drawing for a moment before his brows furrowed in confusion.

Sicheng winced, "Is it that bad?"

Ten blinked a few times before looking back at him. "What? No, no, it's just... nevermind." Then his gaze traveled to some spot behind Sicheng, and he raised his eyebrows, "Oh God, is that the time? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize."

Sicheng turned around and found the little clock that was hanging from the wall. The class had ended half an hour ago.

"I hope you didn't have to be somewhere", Ten said as he stood up.

"I didn't." Sicheng put the pencils back on the tin box, lamenting that the class was over. He had grown to like Ten's company and he wished he could stay longer, even if he didn't have to worry about something happening to him.

"You didn't bring a folder, did you?", Ten asked. "I forgot to tell you to buy one but it's okay, you can borrow one of mine."

As he looked for a one inside the cupboard Sicheng stood up and put on his coat and gloves again. Louis seemed to sense the movement because he jumped from the couch and went to him. "Are there any other potential death traps I should look at before I leave?", Sicheng asked as Ten put his drawing inside a worn carton folder.

"Now that I think of it, there was this funny smell the other day, I think the stove might be leaking..." Sicheng felt his shoulders tense up for a moment before Ten looked at him with a grin, "I'm just kidding! You really think I'm that careless?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that." Sicheng's shoulders relaxed and he took the folder from him. The front was covered in the same ink drawings he'd seen scattered over the table the other day. "Did you make these?"

"Yeah, I have a friend who’s a tattoo artist and he sometimes asks me to do some for his shop."

"I like them", Sicheng said, tracing a finger over the delicate ink traces. "I can see why people would want them on their skin forever. They're very pretty."

Ten looked at the floor with a little smile before grabbing a coat and his big red scarf from the hanger by the door. "Come on, I'll go with you. There's some shopping I have to do."

It was already dark outside, the old buildings lit with the yellow lights of their windows as if set on fire, slowly feeding from the lives of their inhabitants as they came home from work. Sicheng hadn't paid attention to the city before. He had just been sent there for a visit. But now, as he and Ten walked the cobbled streets surrounded by antique lamp posts and bare trees reaching to the stars with its delicate arms, he realized how breath-taking it was. 

They walked for about a block before Sicheng remembered he didn't have anywhere to go. No home to return to, save the deserted cliff. So, he just kept walking forward, hoping that Ten would take a turn at some point and didn't ask about his route. 

"Aren't you cold without a scarf?"

Sicheng turned towards Ten, whose face was half covered by his red scarf, his nose already pink. He shook his head, pulling from the neck of his black turtleneck, "This does the job."

Ten hummed, "Insane. Stylish, but insane."

"I don't really feel the cold, or any temperature for that matter, so it's alright. I'm incapable of catching a cold."

"Right, you are my guardian angel. You must have superhuman abilities or something like that."

Sicheng nodded, "Something like that."

"Do you have wings?"

"I don't think so, at least not yet. Maybe someday."

Ten looked at him and gave him an eye smile, his dark pupils glinting like inverted moons. Sicheng thought they were pretty. "So, are you headed to the station?"

He wasn't going to avoid the question, apparently. Sicheng nodded vaguely as he looked around, searching for something to divert the attention to. He spotted some lively posters across the street, covering the walls of a building under construction, and he pointed towards them, "What's that?"

He couldn't even read them from that far, but as soon as Ten saw them he knew what they were, "Ah, just the Christmas market."

"Oh. Is it an event?"

Ten looked at him in disbelief, "You don't know what it is? They do it every year."

"I haven't been here long." Sicheng fumbled with his sleeves nervously, regretting having changed the subject for that one in particular. "I was transferred… for work. It was very sudden."

"But you've visited the Old Town square, right? You must have." Sicheng kept quiet, and Ten pulled down his red scarf just so he could show his dramatic gasp. "You really haven't seen anything!"

"I guess I've been busy with work. It looks like a nice city, though."

" _Nice_!" Ten let out a laugh, "Oh my god, you have to go! Go right now!"

"Is it far from here?"

"No, it's— ah, but it's a week day, you're gonna miss all the magic."

"What magic?"

"You should go during the weekend", Ten went on, "It's gonna be plagued by tourists of course but I heard they sell some nice things, and it's decorated and all."

"For Christmas?"

"Yeah, well, for the whole week. I think it starts this Saturday."

"Oh. Okay." 

There was a beat of silence after that. Then Ten turned to him and opened his mouth to say something. Then he closed it again. Then he looked to the ground and pulled up his scarf. "Haven't been there in a while."

Sicheng chanced a glance at him. A gentle snow had started to fall, and it clinged to Ten's dark hair like a delicate veil. "Perhaps I'll see you there, then. If you decide to go."

"Perhaps." Ten gave him a tentative look, "You know, the bridge is quite nice, too. Charles' bridge. It's really nice, and it's near the square."

"Oh. Yeah, sounds… nice."

"It is. Especially at, say, eight-ish? I think it's the best hour to visit it, yes."

A small smile started to make way on Sicheng's lips, "In that case, I will probably visit it. This Saturday, eight-ish. I hope I don't get lost."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll probably visit it at eight-ish too, so, yeah." Ten tilted his head at him playfully, "You know, we've passed the station like three minutes ago."

Sicheng stopped on his tracks and looked behind him, embarrassed. "Really? I must have missed it." Ten's eyes glinted in a smile again, and Sicheng regretted he couldn't see his real smile, concealed by his scarf. "Were you walking me there?"

"Were you walking me to the supermarket?"

"I don't know what I was doing, frankly."

Sicheng hadn't realized what a nice laugh Ten had. It really was nice, even if muffled by thick red cotton. And it made him smile, too. It was all he could think of when he went back to his grey, lifeless home. That, and how much he'd like to hear it again.

Yangyang wasn't waiting for him this time. The land was vast and desolated anywhere he looked, drenched in silence, static clouds hovering over it all with the fake menace of rain. He went to Yangyang's cave nonetheless, and after venturing into its shadows he found him curled over the dusty ground. Lately he seemed to be getting smaller, thinner, faded. That day wasn't the exception.

“Thought I’d find you by the cliff again”, Sicheng said, crouching next to him. Yangyang merely hummed, his slender body shrinked in itself. “Hey, you okay?”

“Just tired.” Sicheng nodded and turned to go. “Wait.” Yangyang sat up to look at him. His eyes were shiny and tired, and he rubbed them quickly with his skinny hand. “Would you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

“Sure.”

Yangyang layed down again, resting his head on his hands, as Sicheng sat down beside him. After a while Sicheng started to feel tired too, so he decided to lay down on the rough ground as well. Yangyang’s cave was quiet, unlike his own. He closed his eyes.

“Saw that drawing you made of me”, Yangyang said, his voice already drowsy with sleep. “I like it.”

Sicheng hummed, “Something had to come out from watching you jump over rocks all day.”

“Not that, the other one.”

Sicheng opened his eyes and turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. But Yangyang was already breathing softly, his face serene and his eyelids shut. He was probably confused. He was very tired, after all.

Sicheng arrived at the bridge earlier than Ten. That night it wasn’t snowing, but the streets had been covered in a soft white carpet since the afternoon. Sicheng leaned against the short wall next to the river as he watched the people who passed by, chatting loudly as they made their way towards the bridge. There was a lightness in their voices, an air of festivity Sicheng couldn’t relate to. He turned towards the still river instead, and as he watched the lights of the city dance on its dark waters he let his mind wander. 

It wasn’t long until Ten arrived. His face was hidden under his now familiar red scarf, but he pulled it down to greet Sicheng with a bright smile. 

“You ready to join the flock of tourists?”, he asked as they walked to the bridge.

“I think I might be one of them.”

The bridge was surrounded by statues of what Sicheng assumed represented saints and other holy figures, reaching towards the stars and looking down at the flock of humans like omnipowerful gods. Some of them had their names and ornaments covered in gold, others had crowns or were surrounded by cherubs.

“I wish I could tell you more about the history of the bridge”, Ten said as he watched him consider the statues, “The only thing I know is that people rub that thing over there for good luck.”

Sicheng looked at the statue Ten was pointing, where an agglomeration of people was waiting to rub on a certain section of it that was covered in gold. “Does it work?”

“Wanna try?”

Sicheng shook his head, “I don’t know how much luck it could give me if millions of people have already touched it. It must have ran out by now.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

Sicheng watched the crowd of strangers in silence, the big smiles they flashed after brushing their fingers across the golden statue. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

The Old Town square was brimming with life, color and sounds when they got there. As Ten had foreseen, dozens of people were strolling along the stands displaying food, handmade crafts, souvenirs and more. There was lively traditional music coming from the middle of the square, where some artists were entertaining the crowd with their dancing. Sicheng looked around in silence, trying not to feel perturbed by the sudden waves of stimuli coming at him from all fronts. But as they went further into the square the images in front of him seemed to blur into the other, passing so quickly in front of his eyes that he didn’t have time to hold on to any of them. A foreign kind of unease started to breed in his stomach and he suddenly felt the need to get away from there.

“Hey, you okay?”

Sicheng came out of his haze and looked at Ten. He hadn’t realised they had stopped walking. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just taking it all in. There’s so much going on.”

“We can go somewhere else, if you want.”

Sicheng shook his head, watching a few kids as they ran past them holding pastries that left a cinnamon scented trail behind. The feeling of unease wouldn’t go away.

“Look at me”, Ten said. Sicheng did. He had loosened his scarf, so now Sicheng could see his face. “How many earrings am I wearing?”

“What?”

Ten turned his face so he could see them, “How many?”

Sicheng counted, trying to get his eyes to focus. He still had a hard time trying to hold on to an image, and for a moment he could only see a haze of silver. “Five”, he said after a while.

“And on this one?” Ten turned to his other side. Sicheng took his time again.

“Three. Why did you ask me to do that?”

“I forgot how many I was wearing.”

Sicheng breathed a laugh. “Come on.”

“Really! At some point of my life I just stopped counting, they’re a part of me now.”

Sicheng tilted his head and looked at the ones on his right ear. He saw one he hadn’t seen before, a silver cross with tiny red gems. It hung from his cartilage, glinting against his dark hair. “You have a new one. The cross.”

Ten smiled shyly, taking a finger towards the cross to play with it, “You noticed.”

“I pretty much stared at you for half an hour the other day.”

“Longest half hour of my life.” Ten let go of the earring, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “Feeling better?”

At first Sicheng didn’t know what he was talking about. Then he realised the unpleasant feeling had gone away, and when he looked around the images around him didn’t look as blurry. “Yeah. How did you do that?”

“I’m a magician.” Ten smiled at him and patted his arm, “Come on, let’s see how many overpriced keyrings we can find.”

Sicheng smiled too and let Ten guide him towards one of the stands. Now that he felt calmer he recognized voices speaking in different languages, all sharing the same excitement. There were many stands selling Christmas decorations that people seemed to love, as revealed the crowds that huddled around them on their toes to try and catch a glance of them. He and Ten spent a while fooling around, admiring the handmade souvenirs and poking fun at the industrial ones that announced _I love Prague_ in horrible fonts. They also stopped at a few stands of local artists and marveled at the handmade elves, fairies, dragons and other mythical creatures they had in display.

“You could sell your drawings here”, Sicheng said as Ten inspected a particularly lugubrious hooded skeleton made of clay.

“I think you have to pay for that.”

“You have to pay to sell your art?”

Ten shrugged, “Welcome to the capitalist market.”

“HI! Would you like some wine?” Sicheng and Ten turned to the new voice. There was a smiley lady in front of them, holding a big tray filled with plastic cups. Sicheng got to see some dark red liquid inside and steam coming from them. “It’s homemade, help yourselves!”

“Thank you”, Ten said as he took a cup. Then he turned to Sicheng, “The world isn’t lost to capitalism, after all.”

Sicheng took a cup as well. “Homemade?”

“Yes! It’s a traditional recipe, I added some spices—”

“Does it have nuts?”, Sicheng asked, giving the lady a wary look. “He’s allergic to nuts.”

The lady’s smile faltered, her eyebrows furrowing as she let out an awkward laugh. “It’s wine.”

Sicheng heard Ten chuckle by his side. He gave him a look. “Sorry”, Sicheng said to the lady. “Thank you.”

“Welcome! Merry Christmas!” The lady gave them a happy nod before retrieving to offer her wine to other people. 

Ten nudged Sicheng with his elbow. “You don’t have to worry about me dying again. Not that it isn’t cute.”

Sicheng felt himself shrink with embarrassment, and he looked down at his cup as he repressed a smile. “Hot wine, I’ve never tried it.”

“I’m not a huge fan, but it helps with the cold”, Ten said as he took a sip. “This one is quite good, though.”

Sicheng wiggled the cup, making the dark liquid dance and reflect the lights that hung from the tree branches around them. He raised it to his face and gave it a tentative sniff. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had drank something. At last, he took the plastic cup to his lips and gave it a sip. 

The intensity of flavors barged into his mouth with violence, making his tongue feel like a mined field. He found himself flinching and blinking confusedly at the drink.

Ten laughed, “Did you burn your tongue?”

“I don’t think so.” Sicheng composed himself and gave the wine another sip. This time the liquid felt smooth, and he was able to taste the different layers. There was the wine, most prominently, but there was also something sweet that Sicheng couldn’t place. And another thing.

“I’ve drank this before”, Sicheng realised. He couldn’t remember when, but he knew he had.

“Are you having an epiphany right now? I think your pupils dilated.”

“Maybe.” Sicheng gave the wine another look, as if by looking at its dark depths he could catch the memory that was escaping through his fingers. But it was no use, it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“You’re unusual”, Ten said. Sicheng turned to him and caught him grinning just before hiding behind his cup.

“Is that bad?”

Ten shook his head slightly. “I like unusual.”

Sicheng held his gaze for a moment. He looked at his lively eyes and his playful smile, at the way his earrings caught the light like tiny stars, making him look like a beautiful and magical being. And he realised, he really liked Ten. He really, really liked him.

But his stomach contracted in an ugly way when he saw the dark figure that passed by a few meters away from them. Standing by one of the stands and almost hidden in the crowd he found the Stranger, piercing him with his cold glare from the distance. Fear took hold of him as the Stranger gave him a sinister smile.

“You okay?”

Sicheng looked back at Ten, who had turned in the direction he was looking. The Stranger gave Sicheng one last glance before disappearing into an adjacent street. “Yeah, I just… I think I saw someone I know. Do you mind if I go over to say hi? It’ll be just a second.”

“Not at all.” Ten nodded towards one of the food stans, “I was thinking about grabbing something to eat. You want anything?”

“No, thanks.”

Sicheng waited until Ten was already by the food stand before following the Stranger. He glided through the mass of people until he got to the side street he had disappeared into, a narrow alley lightened only by the lampposts of the main street. His foot bumped against a glass bottle laying on the floor, making it roll towards a wall and scaring a furry animal that was too fast for Sicheng to identify. As he walked further into the alley the light started to fade, as well as the lively chatter from the market. He stopped for a moment to listen to any near sounds. Everything was quiet.

Then, he heard something. It was a deaf, faint sound, a fluttering of some sort accompanied by some erratic whistling. Sicheng narrowed his eyes as he gazed towards the end of the alley. He walked towards the sound with careful steps, holding his breath. As he got closer he could distinguish a slim figure standing a few meters away from him, and something that was twisting and turning on the floor. He was still holding the cup of wine in his hand, but when his eyes adjusted to the darkness and got to see what was ahead of him he let it fall to the floor. There was a raven laying there, flopping desperately as it choked on the plastic bag that came out of its beak. The Stranger was looking right at it, impassive. Sicheng ran the last meters that separated him from them, but when he got there the Stranger turned to him and grasped him by his shoulders violently.

“Let me go!” Sicheng cried. He tried to push the Stranger aside, but this one tightened his grip.

“You have to watch it”, he said to his ear in an icy voice, “Watch it die.”

The raven kept twisting on the floor, whistling sounds coming out of its beak as it tried to breathe, its black wings sweeping the snow. Sicheng felt the Stranger’s fingers closing around his arms, keeping him in place as he watched the bird let out one last choked cry before laying perfectly still. Sicheng pushed the Stranger aside, and this time he let him.

“We could have saved it”, Sicheng said bitterly, crouching beside the dead raven. He felt a knot twisting in his throat, acid rising from his stomach, as he extended his hand towards it and took the bag from its beak. 

“You’re wrong.”

Sicheng pursued his lips and looked up at him. He was grinning, his eyes dark and devoid of any life. “What do you want?”

“ _Want_?” The Stranger tilted his head, just like he had back at the apartment. It made Sicheng’s skin crawl. “Whatever is that?”

“I told you to leave him alone.”

The Stranger considered him for a moment. There was something unnatural about him, something about his face that seemed wrong the more Sicheng looked at it. Inside of him, Sicheng felt as if a pair of hands was grabbing his nerves and pulling him like a puppet, forcing him to look away. But he didn’t. He stood up again, planted himself in front of him. The Stranger merely laughed, a dry, empty laugh. “You haven’t realized yet. But you will, soon.”

Sicheng reeled back as the Stranger walked towards him, and he bumped against the brick wall of the alley. He could feel his fists tensing up, his throat closing as the Stranger stood just a feet away from him. But the Stranger didn’t come any closer. He kneeled beside the dead raven and placed a hand over it, his eyes as dark as two endless pits. Soon, white threads of smoke started flowing from the raven’s body and straight into his hand, curling around his fingers.

“What do you mean?”, Sicheng said, “What will I realize?”

The Stranger remained still, his head bowed to the floor. When he looked up at Sicheng, his eyes were lit with the white light that kept emanating from the dead bird and that was condensing into a sphere over his palm. “You will see. I'll be there, too.”

Sicheng watched as the Stranger raised the sphere to his lips and blew once. Its white light died immediately, along with the one of the lamp posts, leaving the alley in complete darkness. A moment later the light came back. The Stranger had disappeared.

Sicheng looked to either side of him, but the alley was empty. He was all alone. He gave the lifeless body of the raven one last look before heading back to the square with quick steps, wrapping his arms around him. The image of the bird flopping on the floor haunted his mind, the way it fought a pointless fight against the merciless fingers of Death, its whole body transformed into an incohesive and convulsive pile of organs shutting down, and it started overlapping with another image, of another body. He stopped by the entrance of the alley, a hand against the wall as he closed his eyes and willed himself to breathe. A stinging pain grabbed him by his throat and he thought he might throw up. He kept seeing the Stranger’s eyes piercing him through the darkness of his eyelids, his features melting until there were only bones left. A lifeless skull, for a lifeless body with an unbeating heart.

“There you are! Thought you’d left me to the tourists to eat me.”

Sicheng opened his eyes. He was back at the square, back to the lively music and warm lights and loud chatter. He looked around him as he blinked a few times, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then he saw Ten, standing by his side with a small brown bag in his hand. “What?”, Sicheng said.

“Nothing.” Ten sighed and gave him a funny look, “You space out quite a lot, don’t you?”

“I guess.” Sicheng turned towards the alley, several meters away. Had he walked all the way to the market without noticing?

“You finished your wine already”, Ten said. Sicheng looked back at him, trying to place himself back in reality.

“No, I… I bumped into someone, it fell to the floor.”

“Oh.” Ten made a little pout, “That’s alright, we can share mine, I still have some.”

“It’s okay.” 

Ten extended the cup to him and gave him a reassuring look. “Really, I don’t mind. It would bring some color to your cheeks too, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sicheng sighed, but he took the cup from him. It was still half full. “You know, I’ve never liked that expression. There are scarier things than ghosts.”

“Alright, you look like you’ve seen your first born getting run over by a truck.”

“That’s more accurate.” Sicheng took a sip of the wine. As he felt the sweetness make way through his tongue he locked eyes with Ten, and it was a silly thought but drinking from the same cup as him somehow made it taste better. “What do you have there?”, he said, nodding at the little bag Ten was holding. 

“Oh I bought some chocolate”, Ten opened the bag and showed the inside to Sicheng. “You want some?”

“Alright.” Sicheng reached inside the bag and took out a small truffle, “Thanks.”

“Anyway, you wanna keep roaming the stands or should we walk around or something?”

Sicheng bit the inside of his cheek as he looked once more towards the alley. “Yeah, a walk sounds nice.”

They headed back to the bridge, making their way through the flock of people that kept arriving at the market. Sicheng gave the little truffle he’d taken from Ten a look. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything. Something distracted him, though. A quick movement, just in the corner of his eye. He turned his head in fear, expecting to see the Stranger again, but instead he found someone else. “Isn’t that your neighbor?”

“Where?”

The teenager was walking quickly amongst the people at the market, a troubled expression on his skinny face. He was all alone. Sicheng pointed towards him, but when Ten followed his gaze he had already disappeared into the crowd. 

“I don’t see anyone”, Ten said as he got on his toes and looked around. 

“Nevermind, he’s gone.” 

“Oh, well, good. I don’t fancy talking with anyone tonight. Anyone other than you, obviously. You’re alright.”

Sicheng hummed, “Alright?”

Ten locked eyes with him for a moment. Then he took the wine cup from him. “Ugh, it’s gone cold already”, he said after taking a sip. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they walked further away from the market the noises started to fade, and Sicheng felt relieved. He still felt the strings pulling at him, making him look away whenever he thought about the Stranger or the dying raven. But at least they were away from that alley now.

The streets were fairly calm for a Saturday night, lit by the gentle lampposts and the lights from the stores and buildings. When they got to the bridge a strong wind blew, and Sicheng lamented how it made Ten bring his scarf up his nose, covering half his face. At last, he remembered he was still holding the truffle and decided to eat it. It was round and soft, and when he bit it a sweet liquid came out.

“Oh”, Sicheng said, widening his eyes. “Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“The truffle. It’s amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Ten’s voice was muffled by the big scarf, but Sicheng could still hear his excitement. “Which flavor did you get?”

“Cherry, I think.” And then Sicheng did something he hadn’t done in a while. He laughed. A sincere, unexpected laugh. He covered his mouth and looked away, but he got to see the sparkle on Ten’s eyes.

“You have such a nice laugh!”

Sicheng bit his lip and shook his head, repressing a smile. “Whatever. Why is this bridge so long?”, he said as he looked towards the dark river and the opposite shore, where the distant lights of the city blinked under the stars.

“Changing the subject, I see”, Ten said with a playful sigh. “I really like it. The bridge, the statues. Makes me feel like I’m in a dream.”

Sicheng took a look around, to the tall statues and the gothic cathedrals in the distance, to the gigantic sky hovering over them and the white smoke that came from his mouth whenever he talked because of the cold. And, for a moment, he actually felt like more than just a soulless pile of bones. “Yeah. It does feel like that.”

They finished the last of the wine and threw the cup in one of the bins at the end of the bridge. Then they started pacing along the river, away from the flow of people. There were more trees on that side, reaching with bare branches towards the stars and blending into the dark sky.

“I never asked you what you do for a living”, Ten said.

It took Sicheng by surprise, and he thought for a moment what could be the nearest thing to the truth he could say. “I work at a nursing home.”

“Oh. What’s it like?”

Sicheng looked down at the soft snow under their feet. He hadn’t thought about it before. He’d always done what he did without pondering too much about it. “Sometimes I’m around, when they pass away. When they have no relatives left, or they don’t get there fast enough.”

Ten’s face went solemn at this. “That’s sad.”

“Yes. But some of them say the most interesting things. There was this lady, once. She told me, _I can see it clearly now, how every moment of my life led to this point_. It really stuck to me, got me thinking about it for a while. It reminded me of something I read a long time ago. It said something like this: a man who dies at thirty-five lives his life without knowing he will die at thirty-five, but if someone thinks about that man after he dies they will think of him as a man who dies at thirty-five, no matter what period of his life they consider.” Sicheng noticed Ten had gone very quiet, and he turned to him with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, that was grim.”

“Kind of”, Ten said with a chuckle, adjusting his scarf over his nose before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I think I can rephrase it in a lighter way, though.”

“Please, do.”

“Well, it’s like looking at the bigger picture. Whenever you make a judgement about something, you’re judging it as it is in that moment, with all its parts. In the case of a person, you can never know for sure how to define them as a whole if they’re gonna keep changing. Because they haven’t lived all their life yet. When someone passes, you can think about them as a whole. Maybe that’s what the lady meant.” 

Sicheng nodded silently, reflecting on his words. “Then, living could be like reading a book, in a way. You know that every aspect of your life is already written in there, but you can’t find out about it until you finish it. Everything leads to that point, and it doesn’t make sense until you arrive. And when you do, all of your life’s potential is there in front of you or, more accurately, behind you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“This is all very interesting, but can we step away from the river? I’m freezing.”

“Oh. Sure.”

He should have realized Ten was cold, even if Sicheng himself couldn’t perceive it, and he felt a bit bad as they made a turn and walked towards the narrow streets. He was afraid he had bored him with his conversation too, but to his surprise Ten kept talking. “I agree with you, but I don’t think it’s like reading a book. That would mean there’s nothing you can do to change your story, kind of like a greek tragedy. I don’t like that.”

“You don’t believe in fate?”

Ten shrugged. “I don’t know what I believe. I’d say that living is more like painting, though. At times you think you know where you’re going, at times you want to give up or you feel like it doesn’t make any sense. But it doesn’t really matter because, in the end, you are the one who’s handling the brush. As you decide, you create. I like to think of it that way.”

“I think I like that, too.” Sicheng turned to him, unsure, “Sorry if that was dark, or boring. I think about this stuff sometimes but I can never talk about it with anyone.”

“You’re everything but boring, Sicheng.” Ten looked up at him and tilted his head. His mouth was covered by his scarf but Sicheng could tell he was smiling. “It’s nice talking with you.”

Sicheng smiled back at him before drifting his attention to the floor. “It’s nice talking with you, too.”

He hadn’t realized they were walking back to Ten’s building until they were right in front of it. Sicheng wondered if Ten had wanted to drift away from the river on purpose. Maybe he was bored of Sicheng already and he didn’t know how to get rid of him. But then Ten pulled down his scarf, revealing his face at last. He looked uncertain as he fumbled with the sleeves of his coat. “Would you like to come in?”

Sicheng raised his eyebrows in surprise. He felt some kind of turmoil in his chest.

“I mean, I can make some tea, if you'd like”, Ten said quickly. “Or coffee, either thing is fine, you surely are tired of my tea anyway—”

“I’d love to.”

The ride on the elevator was quiet, so quiet it made Sicheng’s stomach buzz. Ten kept tucking his hair behind his ear, making the little silver cross jingle as it bumped against the other earrings. It seemed like an eternity had passed before they got to Ten’s floor.

“I would say I’m sorry for the mess, but I’m not”, Ten said as they went into the apartment. Apparently Ten had been working, cause the table was covered in papers and art supplies, but other than that it didn’t look messy at all. Louis came to greet them, and Sicheng took off his leather gloves before crouching next to him and running a hand through his soft fur.

“I’m glad he doesn’t hate me anymore”, Sicheng said. Ten didn’t say anything, and when Sicheng looked up he found that he was looking at him. Ten looked away quickly and started taking off his coat.

“He’s a very smart cat”, he said. He hung his coat by the door and started uncurling the red scarf from his neck, exposing his skin.

“Oh, you have a tattoo.” Sicheng got up and looked at the thin ink traces that were peeking from Ten’s white sweater, on the back of his neck.

Ten left his scarf over the little table by the door and nodded, “I got this one just last year.” He turned so his back was to Sicheng and pulled down the neck of his sweater. Sicheng recognised the design right away. The style of the traces was the same as the one he had seen on the drawings decorating the folder Ten had lended to him.

"You designed it, didn’t you?"

Ten hummed, pulling down the neck of his sweater a bit further to reveal the whole drawing. Abstract but delicate black lines entwined to form the image of a tree, reaching from Ten’s shoulder blade to his neck. Sicheng was mesmerized by its beauty, how every trace seemed to flow organically as if it had a life of its own. He raised a tentative hand, and with a gentle movement he brushed his fingers along the slender lines, tracing the intricate twists and turns of the dark ink. Ten caught his breath in surprise, but he didn't move away. Sicheng could feel Ten's pulse under his fingers as they traveled towards his neck, how it accelerated just a bit as if reaching to meet his touch. "It's very pretty", Sicheng said.

Slowly, Ten turned to face him again. He looked into his eyes for a moment, a mere breath away from him. His eyes flickered towards his lips and Sicheng found himself growing breathless, his whole body ignited with the promise of a warmth he knew he couldn't possibly feel but that he secretly craved. Ten leaned in, so slowly Sicheng thought he was imagining it, and Sicheng closed his eyes just as Ten placed his lips on his. All his thoughts and everything surrounding him seemed to fade. It was a short, tentative kiss, but when Ten stepped back Sicheng didn't spare another second before cupping his face in his hand gently and kissing him again.

Ten sighed into his lips, and Sicheng thought he might melt. They spent a moment like that, getting familiar with the other's touch. Ten's hands wandered gently up Sicheng's chest before linking behind his neck to pull him closer, making Sicheng's body and mind go completely numb. It felt so good. Sicheng couldn't even remember last time he'd felt this way. Ten leaned back just a bit, his nose brushing against Sicheng's cheek. "I think I really like you", he said.

Sicheng traveled with his eyes every last detail of Ten's face as if memorizing a painting, as if that was the last time he would see anything so beautiful. "I think I really like you, too."

This time Ten didn't shy away from a more intense approach, and after leaning in for another kiss he opened his mouth and traced Sicheng's bottom lip with his tongue. Sicheng grabbed him by his waist, giving into the drunken sensation and tasting the sweet trace of the wine that still clinged to Ten's mouth. He could feel something inside of him begin to bloom, to awaken, an old bird that lived in the caves of his heart and that was now starting to flutter its wings. It was so overwhelming Sicheng wondered if it was really happening.

Ten hummed and fisted his hands around the collar of his coat, pressing his body closer even though there wasn't any space between them left. They kept on searching, getting to know each other's body with their hands until Ten's back hit the little table by the door with the impulse, making the objects over it rattle. But he didn't seem to care, because he climbed over the table and pulled Sicheng against him once more, putting his legs on either side of his hips. Sicheng hummed as Ten's tongue wandered inside his mouth, closed his hands around his waist when he felt his teeth biting his lower lip. He could feel Ten's beating heart against his own unbeating one, its heavy pulsations racing against their rapid breathing, and in a desperate moment he craved to share that heartbeat, to share the warmth that Ten was surely feeling and that Sicheng's skin couldn't replicate. He wanted to bathe in that heat, and he was so close to feeling it, so close to reaching that flaming light that awaited under each touch.

Sicheng kissed the corner of Ten's mouth and all along his jaw before going down his neck, making Ten whimper softly. He could feel his rapid pulse through his skin, his breathing under his lips, waking a desire inside of him that he didn't know he still possessed. He only noticed Ten had taken his coat from his shoulders when it fell on the ground with a deaf sound, allowing Ten's touch to feel closer and lighting in Sicheng a need to be even more so, to feel warm. Sicheng's lips found Ten's mouth again, but Ten pulled back to press it against his ear.

"Would you like to go to my room?", he whispered. Sicheng simply nodded, too breathless and drugged by Ten's presence to even formulate a single word. Ten kissed him again before grabbing his hand and guiding him to his room, not even bothering to turn the lights on before laying on the bed and guiding Sicheng on top of him.

The moment Ten's fingertips brushed the skin under his shirt, Sicheng could have sworn the pressure he felt inside his chest was real. It was but a spark, less than an instant, but enough to imbue him with the hope that there could be more. And in that moment, he knew he wanted nothing more in the world than to recreate that feeling. Nothing else seemed to matter, when he had Ten's hands traveling up his waist and his lips leaving sweet kisses along his neck. 

As they got rid of their clothes and Sicheng felt Ten's skin against his, he made the promise that he would do anything, _anything_ , to be able to feel that heat. He would find a way to give life to his dried up heart, so his beating could run along the one that hammered through Ten's chest every time he gasped against Sicheng's mouth, every time they pressed harder onto each other or their teeth found the other's flesh.

He would find a way.

Sicheng woke up to the feeling of smooth blankets, a soft pillow under his head. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know he wasn’t on the rough floor of his dark cave, even if the sky proved to be grey when he did and caught a glimpse of it through the window. There was a slight moment of fear, a fraction of hesitation that ate at the back of his brain as he realized that. As he noticed something shifting. But it went away once he looked to his other side.

Ten’s face was half hidden under the covers, his eyelids gently closed like petals that were yet to bloom, his naked shoulder and part of his back exposed to the pale winter light of the morning. Sicheng let himself recall the events of the night prior, revisit them through his memory as he watched Ten breathing softly. He still couldn't feel warm, nor a heartbeat, but he was so close. He knew he was close. 

He also wondered if Ten was cold. After a moment, he grabbed the covers carefully and pulled them over his sleeping body, procuring not to wake him. Ten moved anyway, and Sicheng pulled away as Ten rubbed his face on his pillow and breathed in. His eyes opened slowly, fluttery with sleep. He looked at Sicheng for a moment before closing them again with a smile, “You stayed.”

Sicheng felt a smile tugging at his lips too, a comfortable pressure in his chest, “Of course I did.”

“Lucky. I didn’t want to wake up to a cold and lonely bed.”

Ten stretched his arms over his pillow before folding them under his head, making the covers Sicheng had carefully arranged fall back again. Sicheng caught sight of another of Ten’s tattoos, a delicate flock of birds decorating the side of his arm. He contemplated them with curiosity and traced a finger over them. Everything about Ten was so spirited, so alive. The way he talked, the way he expressed himself, even his apartment filled with plants and the ink traces on his body that seemed to have a life of their own. 

"You like it?", Ten asked, his eyes still closed.

Sicheng hummed, “I hadn’t seen this one. How many do you have?”

“I could tell you, but it’s more fun if I let you find out yourself.” He opened his eyes again, this time looking more awake, and shiny, and inviting. Sicheng felt a flutter in his stomach. “Would you like that?”

Sicheng nodded. His body was already pulling closer, gravitating towards the touch it had felt the night before and that it was starting to miss, and it was met by it halfway. The first kiss was lazy, lips still too asleep. But then they sparked back to life, hungry again and paired with entwined limbs melting into the covers. Ten’s fingers closed around Sicheng’s as they left kisses on each other’s skin, retracing the steps of the ones that had preceded earlier. Sicheng couldn’t have said how long it was before they were forced to pull apart, startled by the shrill doorbell.

Ten let out an annoyed groan, “Who could possibly come bothering at… oh, fuck.” Ten winced when he looked at the little clock over the night table, and he gave Sicheng an apologetic look, “Sorry, I have to get that, it’ll be just a minute.”

“Okay.”

Ten gave him a short kiss, and Sicheng’s body complained silently when it was deprived of Ten’s closeness. He watched as Ten gathered his clothes quickly and covered his pretty skin, dark hair messy and lips a bit swollen. “How do I look?”

“Like you just rolled out of bed.”

Ten gave him a mocking smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Sicheng fell back on his pillow as he waited, hearing the muffled voices that came from the front door as Ten talked with whoever was there. There was a low, drumming sound coming from the window, the glass trembling every time a strong wind rushed by. It was merely a murmur, a steady, whispered secret, not unlike the ones Sicheng heard every time he was in his cave, trying to sleep. The sky beyond the window remained clouded, the pale light starting to lose strength as time went by, tainting the room in faded greys. He glanced at the clock, growing impatient. Ten wasn’t coming back.

He decided to go to the living room. He could still hear Ten’s voice as he got dressed, but the persisting sound of the glass and the ticking clock were starting to breed a nagging feeling of distress inside of him. 

Sicheng couldn’t see who was on the other side of the door. There was a familiar voice he couldn’t quite place, a tranquil, tired voice. Ten was holding the door, his fingers tapping impatiently over the wood as he let out a polite laugh. But he seemed to be alright.

Louis jumped on the couch to rest on Sicheng’s lap when he sat down, so he waited for Ten as he stroked his back gently. To his right, the living room window trembled like a mocking, inescapable insect, buzzing its way into his brain. Louis raised his big eyes at him. Something wasn’t right. The shadows casted by the furniture were too long, too sharp, the air around him too dense. Nothing seemed to be wrong, and yet, something wasn’t right.

Finally, Ten closed the door, and Sicheng felt like he could breathe properly again. Ten raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw him on the couch, then he pouted, “Ahh, you should've stayed in bed.”

“Sorry, I was feeling a bit odd.” Sicheng noticed Ten was holding a plastic bag. When he saw what was inside he looked at him in disbelief, “Again?”

“I wasn’t gonna eat them!” Ten trotted towards the couch and sat by his side. The feeling of unease decreased when Sicheng felt Ten’s body close to him again, but not entirely. He looked at the cookies in the bag, this time covered in a transparent glaze.

“Why don’t you tell them you’re allergic? They’ll just keep bringing them.”

“I don’t want to make Mrs. Huang upset, you saw how guilty she looked when she thought I almost died because of her cookies!” 

Sicheng shook his head, “Mrs. Huang?”

“My neighbour, Guanheng’s mom.”

“I thought the teenager had made the cookies.”

“What teenager?”

Sicheng half smiled and looked up at him, thinking that he was just joking. But Ten wasn’t laughing. “The teenager”, Sicheng said, “Guanheng’s brother.”

“Guanheng doesn’t have a brother.”

Sicheng furrowed his eyebrows. What did he mean? He had seen him. He had seen… What was his name? Why couldn’t he remember his name?

“Anyway, since I’m not gonna eat these I figured you may want some? But I must warn you, you won’t be able to kiss me after you eat them.”

Sicheng looked down at the bag of cookies Ten was handing to him. He considered it in silence, the howling wind outside rattling the windows. Something was wrong, again. He grabbed the bag and put it on the coffee table before holding Ten’s cheek and giving him a short kiss. “I have to go”, he said, leaning back just enough to see the pout on Ten’s face.

“So soon?”

Sicheng smiled, “It’s almost noon.”

“Fine”, Ten said with a playful sigh. “I’ll have to eat the cookies all by myself, then.”

“Are you threatening to poison yourself to keep me here?”

“Did it work?”

“No.” Sicheng leaned in for another kiss just as the telephone rang, startling them both. “You should get that, I’ll see myself out.”

“They can talk to the answering machine.”

Sicheng smiled against Ten’s lips as this one kissed him, but he pulled him back gently. “Come on, go be a responsible adult.”

“You’re so boring”, Ten teased, but he obliged anyway, running towards the telephone before it stopped ringing. Sicheng put on his coat and grabbed the bag of cookies, just in case, before waving him goodbye and stepping out of the apartment.

Once he was alone in the corridor, his smile faded. He looked down at the bag of cookies, the very same ones that had almost cost Ten’s life the other time. A bitter sensation took hold of his stomach as he remembered the dark eyes of the teenager, but the harder he tried to remember his face, the more it seemed to fade. He closed his hand around the bag, making it crunch as the cookies crumbled under his fingers, and tossed it inside the bin by the elevator. 

He pressed the button several times and waited as the grumbling sound of the elevator got closer and closer, the greenish lights of the corridor blinking erratically around him as he waited impatiently. He felt a desperate need to get out of there. He could feel gelid fingers of uncertainty climbing up his spine and grabbing him by his neck, warning him about a danger that remained unknown for him. The gears of the elevator shrieked like a wailing creature made of metal as it got closer, taking its time to climb up the dark walls of the building and stretching Sicheng’s nerves thin. He pressed the button again, an irrational action that was no good but that Sicheng couldn’t help. He was about to bolt and go down the stairs when it finally arrived, stopping before him with one last deafening screech. Sicheng didn’t waste a second before pulling the door to the side. 

But when he looked up from the door his blood went cold. At first he thought it was only the mirror giving him back an image, but he was wrong. Time seemed to freeze around him as he came face to face with the hollow eyes of the Stranger, his face so impassive it was as if he didn’t even register Sicheng’s presence.

Sicheng jerked backwards and hit the wall behind him, his legs going numb. The Stranger didn’t even look at him. He stepped out of the elevator and started running down the corridor, the sound of his footsteps reverberating on the humid walls that moved around him resembling morbid images. Sicheng stayed where he was, digging his fingers in the rough wall behind him as he watched the Stranger reach the final door of the corridor and bang it with his fists. He was calling for someone. His cold screams reached Sicheng’s ears like blades and he felt the gelid fingers grabbing him by his neck again. The alarm of the elevator went off but Sicheng barely perceived it. His eyes were trapped by the figure of the Stranger as this one grabbed something from under the rug and opened the door, disappearing into the apartment right after.

Sicheng held his breath as he stared at the door left ajar, guarding a darkness so deep he doubted any living creature could survive in it for long. He could feel the pull of curiosity dragging him there, a morbid curiosity he knew he would regret later. His fingers trailed the rough walls by his side as he slowly walked down the corridor, the greenish lights around him flickering in sickening intervals, making the door seem to be farther away every time they blinked. Sicheng could feel his breathing going faster, his hands trembling, his guts twisting like a poisonous snake inside him. He extended his arm to the door, the number _7F_ hanging crooked and covered in oxide over the scratched wood, and pushed it open before stepping into the darkness.

He was welcomed by an oppressive silence. All the windows in the room had the blinds down, letting in the faintest rays of sun that barely compensated for the obscurity that hid every object from Sicheng’s sight. His foot bumped against a glass bottle laying on the floor, making it roll towards a wall and scaring a furry animal that was too fast for Sicheng to identify, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light an unsettling realization took over him. He had been there before.

Someone screamed. Sicheng jumped and turned towards the shrill noise that grew louder and thinner the more it went on, making his skin crawl. He knew he should run. He didn’t. He followed the shrill noise until it was all he heard, until it was all he could think of. It was guiding him to a room. 

With every step he took he could feel vile rising up his throat, the snake in his stomach twisting and turning. There was an outburst of light, violent and gone in a second, and then the wailing grew louder. Sicheng held his breath as he reached the entrance to the room, barely daring to blink as he looked inside.

There were two figures in the middle of the room, both on the floor. He recognized the Stranger as the one who was with his back to him and kneeling beside the other one, who lay motionless as silver threads of smoke rose from his body and through the stranger’s fingers. Sicheng’s eyes wandered in fear towards his face. His body was taken by the first stages of decay, his clothes ragged and bitten by the insects and rats. His eyes were still open, darkened by the dark circles under them, but they hosted no life. The graceful features of the teenager he’d once been were now rotten and melting into the ground. He was almost unrecognizable. A dry trail of vomit made its way from his purple lips to the floor, reaching towards the empty pill bottles.

The wailing stopped. The Stranger went eerily still, the last threads of smoke illuminating the stiff hands he was pressing over the dead body’s chest. A desperate voice started screaming inside Sicheng’s head, begging him to look away. But he was paralised. The stranger turned his head slowly towards him, and when Sicheng saw his face his whole body went numb. The young man in front of him was gaunt, almost pale, the darkness in his eyes only heightened by the lack of soul they hosted. Every inch of his body safe his face was concealed by black, elegant clothing, ordinary enough to blend into the human crowd. No recognizable emotion could be detected on his unflinching face, a still river that was never disturbed by any current or reflected any moon, his gaze as sharp as a sword made only to be held in winter.

Sicheng looked away as he took a step back, grabbing the wall when he felt his legs starting to give in. 

“ _Look at me_ ”, the Stranger said in a thin, unnatural voice.

“No.” Sicheng closed his eyes shut and turned towards the wall, shaking his head. “No, you’re not real.”

“ _Look at me. Look at him. Look at what you’ve done._ ”

Sicheng hid his face in his arm. “It wasn’t my fault, there was nothing I could do”, he said in a weak voice. He couldn’t breathe. He felt a cold, iron chain closing around his neck.

“ _Look at him!_ ”

Tears started to fight their way from his eyes, piercing his eyelids like needles. He let out a strangled sound and ran away, stumbling blindly in the dark apartment until he made his way out, his desperate footsteps drowning out the yells from the Stranger and the beeping of the elevator that had remained open. He went down the stairs so fast he was afraid he might fall, willing his shaking legs to function as his breathing failed to calm down and his vision got blurry with belated tears. 

But his legs failed him. He tripped just as the lights went out, and he rolled down the few steps until he hit the hard floor. He felt a deep pain rushing from his knees and elbows to the rest of his body and a hurtful sound escaped his lips. His whole body was trembling as he crawled towards the wall and searched with his hands for the light switch, feeling the rough texture against his fingers. He stood up with effort and started walking along the wall, searching desperately for the light switch, reaching blindly. He walked for what appeared to be hours, the only sound being the one of his hurried footsteps and his trembling breaths.

At last, he saw a faint light ahead of him. He quickened his pace, his fingers still brushing against the uneven and rough wall, grumbling sounds under his feet. Then the light got brighter, but as Sicheng got closer he noticed something was wrong. The light was too faded, too grey. Too familiar.

He was back at the cliff. 

Sicheng stopped on his tracks as he came face to face with the endless, lifeless grey desert ahead of him, reaching as far as the eye could see. He turned around, to where his cave was, where the darkness whispered at him. It was all wrong. That wasn’t the way out.

A loud cry reached his ears, coming from another cave. Yangyang’s cave. Sicheng ran towards it, his face growing more pale the closer he got, his insides turning. Yangyang was curled on the floor, his arms wrapped around his skinny body as his cries made him shake. Sicheng hurried his steps and kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“The voices”, Yangyang said between anguished whimpers. “They’re yelling at me.”

Sicheng pursed his lips and looked up, towards the darkness of the cave. “I don’t hear anything.”

“They’re angry”, Yangyang cried. “Make them stop, please, Sicheng.”

Yangyang wouldn’t look at him. His face was hidden behind his trembling hands, so thin Sicheng could almost see his bones. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” Yangyang curled himself even more. “I think I know how to get out of here”, Sicheng said. “But we have to go together, we won’t be able to do it on our own.”

Yangyang shook his head, “I know what you’re thinking. It’s too painful.”

“Yangyang, please—”

“I know another way.” Yangyang stopped shaking. His fingers slowly revealed his young face, his hollow cheeks, the dark circles under his tired eyes. “An easier way. Do you trust me?”

Sicheng looked at him for a moment, and he didn’t know why he felt a terrible sadness gripping him by his neck as he did. He nodded.

“Follow me.”

Sicheng merely blinked, and Yangyang was gone.

"Yangyang?" 

Sicheng’s voice reverberated throughout the rough walls. He looked at the back of the cave, where the darkness lurked. No answer came. With a frown, Sicheng got up and turned towards the entrance to make his way outside. The clouds hung low and menacing under the grey sky, darkening with every step Sicheng took. "Yangyang!", he yelled, looking around the desolated moor. Not even birds answered his call. No living creature roamed the dry land that surrounded him. 

He began to worry, pacing urgently over the harsh floor that grumbled beneath his feet. He could feel vile rising up his throat, a tight pressure gripping his chest as he kept on calling his name only for it to evaporate into the air. 

And then, he found him. 

His cold, unbeating heart dropped to his stomach as his eyes fell on Yangyang, standing by the edge of the cliff and looking down. He could feel his whole body paralyzing, his throat dry as his limbs went numb. 

Sicheng opened his mouth too late. 

Before the cry of his own name could reach him, Yangyang had already disappeared, walking into the void in front of him. 

Sicheng ran. He ran so fast he could feel his legs catch fire, his lungs aching, his throat hurting from his vain screams. He let himself fall by the edge of the cliff, his trembling hands grasping at the dirt underneath him as he looked down. He saw an ocean of waves made of stone, reaching towards the horizon. He saw pointed rocks at the bottom, promising a bloody ending to any creature who was foolish enough to fall. And he saw him. His body was taken by the first stages of decay, his clothes ragged and bitten by the insects and rats. His eyes were still open, darkened by the dark circles under them, but they hosted no life. The graceful features of the teenager he’d once been were now rotten and melting into the ground. He was almost unrecognizable.

Sicheng felt himself bending forward as a spasm sent him to the floor, where his tears stained the land as he buried his fingers in it. He stopped hearing the awful sounds that came from his own mouth, his head spinning so fast he forgot how to breathe, his heart hammering against his chest so wildly he thought he might die. 

"I'm sorry", he sobbed, "I'm so sorry." 

He buried his head in his arms, curling on the floor and pressing his knees to his chest. Everything hurt. His heart, his cold and unbeating heart was loud in his ears as it started throbbing, sending burning blood through his veins. His body began to shiver, and he felt so cold, never in his life had he felt this cold, and as he grabbed onto the dirt beneath him it started to melt in his hands, dripping between his fingers as it turned into water. 

"I'm sorry", he kept crying, his eyes shut. He didn't want to open his eyes. Not if he wasn't going to be there when he did. 

The cold started seeping through his neck, reaching with gelid fingers from his wet hair to his spine. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to keep his body from shaking. His cheek burnt where it met the ground, and his teeth began to rattle. His forehead felt hot, too hot for the cold ground beneath him to salvate. He felt like he was dying. 

_Sicheng_ , he heard someone say, far away. He hid his face in his hands. He didn't want to see. _Sicheng._

He got up and ran, his vision blurry with tears, his body threatening to dissolve into the ground. 

His fingers ran through the familiar roughness of the cave's walls, the darkness wrapping around him like a comfortable blanket. He raised a hand to his eyes, rubbing away the tears as he kept moving forward. His legs began to shake with every step he took, the whispers from the dark cave rising around him until they poisoned his ears. 

_Sicheng._

He was so cold. His fingers felt stiff as he felt something warm close around them, melting the snow that clinged to his skin and hair. He opened his eyes just enough to see the concerned face hovering over him, black hair spiking underneath a woolen hat. 

_Help me_ , Sicheng breathed. _Please._

Another shiver sent him reeling forward, stumbling over the hard stone floor of the cave. The voices yelled at him, threatening and filling him with fear. Sicheng pulled himself back on his feet and kept on running, nothing but deep darkness in front of him. 

His head was filled with loud screams that begged him to stop, crying in pain as he went further and further into the cave. Sicheng ran faster, paying no mind to them or to his now beating heart that was threatening to jump out of his chest. There was nothing but a big void surrounding him, endless and without the promise of a way out. But Sicheng kept going, even when the pain was so thorough it made his bones wail and his skin burn. 

And then, he saw it. A faint, white light. A pale candle at the end of the cave. 

He felt something warm and sweet kissing his lips and going down his throat, spreading to his whole body and melting the snow away. He felt a hand holding his, filling his heart with hope even when he was too scared to go on. 

The light started to glow brighter, closer. It shined inside the depths of the cave like a lonely sun, its pale light swirling and projecting aquatic shadows on the cavernous walls. 

He was so close. His heart began beating faster, igniting his body with life as the pale sun drew him in like a magnet. It felt so good. How could he ever think the darkness could protect him? 

Sicheng extended his cold hand towards it, and with the last remnant of his will he jumped into the light. 

When Sicheng woke up, the first thing he felt was warm. His whole body, from his burning head to each of his limbs, was buried under waves of gentle fire, as if he had stayed under the sun for too long. His eyelids felt heavy, so they remained closed. On his forehead he could feel the pressure of something wet and heavy, dripping warm water down his temples and into his ears, and as he moved a weak hand towards it he also felt the softness of the covers that kept his body in place.

His fingers traveled towards his forehead until they met the wet cloth that was thrown over it, feeling the dampness of the cotton fabric. With a gentle movement, he grabbed the cloth and took it off him as he slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred for a few seconds, his eyes wet from the warm water the cloth had left. He let the cloth fall to his chest and rubbed his eyes, until the figures around him started to come into focus. 

The first thing he noticed was that the room he was in was bathed in golden sun, particles of white dust floating inside the frame of light that came from the window to his left. He felt disoriented for a moment, his mind taking its time to process the information it was gradually receiving. With a grunt, he tried to move himself upwards with the help of his elbows, and as the covers fell from his chest he discovered the unmoving ball of fur that was making pressure against his feet. Louis raised his head and looked at him, his green eyes unblinking and attentive. At last, Sicheng looked to his right and he felt his chest grow warmer as he saw Ten fast asleep over an armchair, his body curled in an uncomfortable position and his head resting over his arms.

Sicheng let out a long sigh and let himself fall backwards on the pillow, surrendering to the heaviness his limbs were enduring. When he saw Sicheng was alright, Louis curled up again and went back to sleep.

Several minutes passed, the room quiet and still save for the dust that was still dancing with the sun. Sicheng tried to recall what had taken him to that situation, but his mind felt dark and clouded. He closed his eyes and let himself dive into the dense ocean of his memory, trying to retrace his steps as he bathed in the heat that was seeping through his skin. He remembered feeling cold, a cold so thorough it kissed his bones. He remembered a warm hand holding his and guiding him. He remembered the gentle touch of a pale sun.

And then he remembered the cliff. The waves of rocks, reaching towards the horizon. He remembered him, irredeemably lost for eternity.

A needle went through his chest, and his hand moved towards his heart in a poor attempt to contain the pain. To keep it from spreading. But the pain felt old, only the echo of what had once been. As the minutes passed, the image of Yangyang’s face dissipated into a smudged painting, a weak reflection over a muddy lake. Sicheng’s slender fingers closed over his heart and he knew that his eyes didn’t have any more tears to shed. And under his warm chest, he felt something warmer. And alive.

“You’re awake.”

Sicheng hadn’t realized he had opened his eyes again, but as he turned towards Ten he found that he was already unfurling his body and going towards him, his hair messed up and his face relieved. Sicheng sat up once more, his body feeling weak and heavy and hot under the various covers. He cleared his throat. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head. Ten grabbed the wet cloth that remained over the bed and put it over the night stand, on which Sicheng could see a couple of mugs and glasses. 

“I found you out in the snow last night”, Ten said as he sat on the bed. His brows were furrowed as he searched Sicheng’s face. “You were just laying there, high on fever. I was actually starting to worry cause I didn't hear about you for a few days."

Sicheng rested his back against the wall and looked down at his clothes. He realized he was wearing a woolen sweater, one he had seen on Ten once.

“Sorry, I had to change you into my clothes. Yours were all wet.”

Sicheng closed his hands around the cloth of the sleeves, feeling the thick and soft wool. “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m… I don’t know.” He raised a hand to his forehead, moving away the wet strands of hair that were sticking to his skin. “Warm.”

Ten extended his hand and put it over his forehead. “You are. Let me get some fresh water—”

“Wait.” Sicheng reached for his hand gently before he could stand up, “Could you… stay with me for a while?”

Ten’s eyes were warm when he smiled at him. He let his body relax as he turned to face him. “Of course.”

Sicheng looked down at his hand, now being held by Ten’s. He could feel it, at last. His warmth. 

"I thought you were incapable of catching a cold", Ten said in a light tone, "No superhuman abilities after all."

"I guess not." A sweet and familiar smell reached Sicheng and he turned towards the night stand, where he found a mug half full of a deep red liquid. “Which one is it?”

“Oh, that’s a special one. You were so cold, you have no idea. I didn’t know what else to do to warm you up. As soon as I gave you that tea you went kind of crazy, and you started saying something like, _your tea will help me go into the light!_ ” Ten let out a nervous laugh, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry”, Sicheng said with a grimace. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, stop right there. I won’t let you do that.”

“Alright. Then, thank you.” Sicheng looked up at him and squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you for helping me."

"Just promise me you won't go talking about going towards the light again, okay?"

Sicheng nodded, feeling some sort of relief run through his body. Then he turned towards the window. He could see the gentle snow behind the glass, shining with the rays of sun like stars. "You think we could go for a walk?"

"A walk? You were nearly hallucinating last night."

"I'm feeling better now. I just really want to breathe some fresh air."

Ten furrowed his eyebrows as he considered, looking through the window. Then he raised his hand to Sicheng's forehead again. 

Sicheng smiled. "I may be warm only because of the eleven covers you've thrown over me."

"I was scared!", Ten complained with a pout, dropping his hand. "You were freezing!"

"I know, I know."

"I also heard the best way to combat the fever is by making you sweat or something, that's why I gave you that thick sweater. So maybe you'll want to take a shower before going out."

Sicheng ran his fingers through his damp hair, just then noticing that the wetness wasn't only because of the cloth. "Yes, that would be nice."

Ten's bathroom had a little window, next to the shower. The glass was rough to the touch, revealing just the shadows of whatever was on the other side, faded images that blended into the crystal like an impressionist painting. The only thing that passed through them was the sunlight. Sicheng watched the way it illuminated the steam in front of him, feeling the steady flow of the water travel all the way from his neck to his feet. Hot water. 

Sicheng looked at his hands, at his wrists, as if he could see the life that was now pulsating through his body. But he could feel it, even if he couldn't see it. It was an impossibility, a contradiction to his own essence... and yet, it was there. He was no longer walking the path of the Dead, no lifeless desert of stone was waiting for him when he opened his eyes after a troubled sleep. After an eternity living under an unchanging sky, he could finally feel the merciless cold of the winter, the kiss of the sun, the gladness and the misery, the pain and the rejoice. All that and more, overflowing from the awakened creature that now lived in his chest, beating and beating and beating…

Ten wrapped his big red scarf around Sicheng's neck before they ventured outside, arranging it with care over Sicheng's dark clothing like a rose in the night. He had been throwing curious glances at him, his glittery eyes under his wool hat staying on him for a tad too long. "You look different", he said at last. "Your skin… it used to be so pale. You look healthier."

Sicheng looked at his reflection on the mirror by the door. He stared at it for a moment before answering. "Must have been the shower", he said, even though he knew it wasn't just that. He looked back at Ten when he felt his hand pulling his.

"Five minutes and that's it, okay? I don't want you getting sick again."

"I won't. I have your big scarf to protect me now."

Ten hummed as he considered the scarf. Then he took off his hat and put it on Sicheng's head, taking it all the way down to his eyes. "Perfect."

"Now _you'll_ get sick", Sicheng said as he adjusted the hat. "At least one of us has to be sane."

"I'll be fine, it's not even snowing anymore. Come on."

The elevator took its time to reach their floor, making the usual screeching sounds. Sicheng thought of the last time he had opened its door to find the face of fear staring back at him, a reflection of his own. But he knew that wouldn't happen anymore. He turned to his right, towards the corridor and the last door with its number hanging crooked and rusty over the wood, to find nothing but a big white wall. No door. He could hardly remember what it looked like, nor the face of the troubled teenager who had been so scared to go inside. Just a pair of tired eyes.

"Is Guanheng's mom okay?"

Ten gave him a curious, almost wary look. "What makes you say that?"

"Last time I saw her… there was something in her eyes."

Ten didn't say anything for a while. The elevator arrived, and this time Sicheng didn't flinch at the image the mirror gave him. Two floors passed in front of them before Ten spoke again. "She is now. The situation at her house wasn't the greatest, but they finally moved out. She and Guanheng."

Sicheng nodded silently. "You were helping them."

"Just being a good neighbor." Ten raised his sincere eyes at him, "It's the least one can do."

Ten had been right. The streets were covered in a thin layer of snow, but it wasn't snowing anymore. From the short time he'd spent in the city, Sicheng thought that was the first time he'd seen the sky so bright, almost blue instead of winter pale. 

"It's a miracle I found you", Ten said as they started walking. "I rarely take that street when I come back home, it's always so dark. What were you doing there, anyway?"

"I guess I was lost. What street was that?"

"It's more like an alley, really. The one behind the church."

Sicheng nodded, watching the snow at their feet in silence as he tried to remember. "Thank you, again. I'll make up for it, I promise. I'll get you one of those awful keyrings we saw at the market."

"You sure know how to get to a guy's heart", Ten said with a grin. "I think dinner would be more suitable, though."

Sicheng felt himself smile too, "That'll do."

"Can't wait." Ten's eyes were back to having their usual, sparkly liveliness, and whatever fear Sicheng might have felt before about their light dying out faded.

When Sicheng looked up at the sky again he squinted, unfamiliarized with the sun's touch. He could feel the rays reaching towards him like gentle fingers, tracing spirals over his cheeks, and when he breathed in the air that filled his lungs was cold. It made him smile all the same. Even if he couldn't know whatever plans the future had for him, he could now live with the hope that maybe fate wasn't as ruthless as he'd believed, that there was still room for change, to feel a bit more human every day. And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hello, thank you so much for reading my story! i put a lot of heart into it and i would love to hear your thoughts ♡ happy halloween!  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/cryojun)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hamleting_)  
> [moodboard](https://www.pinterest.com.au/hamleting/in-requiem-aeternam/)


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